Page 9 of Promise Me This Christmas
“Why am I telling you?Because the baby in that story was Amy.The owner of this bed and breakfast.”
Larkin sucked in a breath.“So Amy’s your half sister.”
“Right.Which is why I’m here.She’s only been in our lives for a few years, and staying here for Christmas seemed like a good opportunity to get to know her better as well as spend some quality time with my little nephew.”
Well, that was partly the truth.But he couldn’t tell Larkin the rest.That he was here because of what happened the last time Amy visited Whispering Pines.The two of them had been chatting when Amy’s phone rang, and he’d been stunned to see the name Larkin Carrillo pop up on her screen.Later, when he’d asked what the call was about, Amy said it had been one of the guests who had booked into Bramble House for the week leading up to Christmas.Her grandmother just had hip surgery a month ago and she wants to make sure we can accommodate her special needs.
“So that’s why you fixed her garburator?”Larkin said, breaking into his thoughts.“Because you’re family?”
He nodded.“Just trying to be helpful.I’m a handy guy, Lark.Built my own house, doing a lot of the work myself.So I think I can handle that little project of your grandmother’s.”
She eyed him cautiously.“It’s my grandmother’s house, so it’s her decision.You can talk to her about it over dinner.”
“I’ll do that.”He took a deep breath, wanting to move the conversation in a more personal direction.But before he could think of the right thing to say, Larkin was shaking her head at him.
“You shouldn’t have invited us to dinner.”
“Why not?”
“You know why not.”
“If you’re talking about what happened—”
She put up her hand to stop him.“There’s no point hashing over the past.Let’s just agree to make nice for Gran’s sake over dinner.After that, I’d really rather you left me alone.”
“I’ve tried that.For nine years.It hasn’t worked.”
She narrowed her eyes.“Carson, I’m serious.”
“So am I, Lark.”He wanted to take her hands.Make her stand still long enough that he could look deeply into her eyes and find the girl he’d once loved so much.
But she was already out of her chair and headed to the door.A few seconds later she had shut it firmly behind her.
*
Amy and herfamily were just finishing their dinner when a tap sounded on the French door that separated the dining room and kitchen from the rest of the house.Through the glass panes, Marjorie Kettles smiled at her, while her husband stood behind her, looking slightly uncomfortable.The Kettles were from Bozeman and staying in the Henry and May Bell room.Amy tried to discourage guests from interrupting their precious family time, but she would not be rude about it.With a mimed apology to Chet, who was lifting Robin from his high chair, she went to the door.
“Hi, Marjorie, Peter, is everything okay?”She looked from the short, apple-shaped Marjorie to her string bean husband.After three years running a bed and breakfast, Amy had noticed couples were often physical opposites.That was certainly the case with the Kettles.Besides their body shapes, Marjorie wore bright florals and was extremely outgoing, while her quiet husband favored conservative neutrals and tended to keep to the background.
“Oh, everything is wonderful, simply wonderful,” enthused Marjorie.“Though we did notice that the cookies this afternoon were a teensy bit overbaked, and I wondered if I could help you out by baking a batch of my monster cookies.My friends and family love them, and it wouldn’t take me very long.Just an hour in your beautiful kitchen.I could bake them tonight, or if you’d prefer them to be right out of the oven, I could do it right after lunch.”
Amy was mortified.She could feel the blood rising from her neck to her cheeks, until her entire face pulsed with heat.“That’s so kind of you, Marjorie.But I assure you the cookies we serve here are usually perfect.You’ll see tomorrow.I promise.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean to criticize.That’s the last thing I intended.I just want to be helpful.”
“And I really appreciate that.But we want our guests to spend their time being pampered and enjoying all the fun festivities in our town.I hope you remember there’s a chocolate-making event at the Copper Mountain Chocolate Shop tomorrow night?You should definitely check that out if you feel like baking.It’s a favorite with all our guests.”She raised her gaze to Peter, who was resting a supportive hand on his wife’s shoulder.“Sage Carrigan, the shop owner, caters to both experienced and novice bakers.So whatever your level of expertise in the kitchen, you’ll have a great time.Plus, you’ll leave with a delicious box of chocolates.”
“That does sound like fun,” Marjorie admitted.“But are you sure I can’t help…?”
“Definitely.”Amy’s flare of embarrassment was receding, and she managed a relatively normal smile.“Please help yourself to a cup of hot cocoa in the sitting room, or maybe relax in our library?We have a wonderful assortment of books and you’re welcome to take them up to your rooms if you’d like.”
Once the couple had turned away, she closed the door and sighed.“So much fuss over slightly crispy cookies.Sometimes I wonder why I ever left Wall Street.”
“You left so you could meet me.”
“Good point.”
“Besides, I really don’t think she meant to complain.Ask me, she’s the kind of woman who likes to keep busy and take care of folks.She’s not used to being pampered.”
