Page 10 of The Christmas Blueprint

Double-teamed. Sophia’s heart pinched. How would she get stronger if she didn’t push herself? And how would she stay strong when her own family didn’t believe in her?

*

Killian pulled intothe packed dirt and gravel lot in front of the old Applegate Mill complex. It was stupid to stop here at night and in the pouring rain, but he’d wanted to avoid driving through town just a few minutes longer. Dumb and cowardly, but dinner with Hunter and meeting his daughter Harlow had shaken him more than he’d anticipated. It had made everything real.

He was backup for a beautiful little girl with crazy white-blonde corkscrew curls and dark blue eyes that noticed everything, and she followed up by offering opinions and questioning it all.

He was toast. Totally unprepared if Hunter got called up to his unit early and his sister wasn’t back in town and settled. But he’d never let Hunter down like he had Enrique.

He peered at the dark hulk of a building in front of him and the sprawling complex around it. The mill had been abandoned when he’d been a teenager.

Somebody had big dreams, and it was his job to make sense of it. To magic reality out of ruin, and if this had been anywhere other than Bear Creek, he wouldn’t be able to wait to dive in.

“Suck it up, Flanagan,” he muttered.

The year wouldn’t be a total loss. When he’d resigned, he’d touted the move as a résumé builder—sort of. He had an MS in urban planning along with his masters in architecture and a bachelor’s in environmental science with an emphasis on sustainable living. What he didn’t have was experience combining his education and interests.

“Yet,” he murmured.

A light went on somewhere in the massive structure that had once been used as grain storage. He blinked, wondering if it was a reflection from something because the entire complex had been abandoned for decades and only this year some engineering and construction work had started shoring up what was salvageable. And then a string of lights—like Christmas twinkle lights—lit up the upper windows. The warm golden glow was beautiful, but his heart stuttered. The building should be empty. Inspection and construction repairs had been happening over the past several months, but the building was a shell, waiting for a plan—his.

Killian got out of his truck and palmed his keys and phone.

Should he call Raoul, who was now chief of police, or 911? Was there a security firm hired to watch the structure at night?

This building was his responsibility starting the first of the year, but he’d come to town a month early to do some research and generate rough blueprints for the space so he’d have ideas to pitch before the planning commission became involved. He was the expert—theoretically. This project was his baby.

Killian stalked toward the building, then heard soft music start up. “Silent Night.” What the heck? His body, on full alert, relaxed. No one would commit an act of vandalism with a classic Christmas carol playing, would they? Maybe a homeless person, although that seemed more like a Seattle or Portland problem than Bear Creek. But what did he know? He’d lit out after high school following his father’s final ultimatum, determined to prove he could make his own way.

A door was partially open, a golden glow emanating, and then Killian heard a dark, rich contralto harmonizing with the sweet soprano that had started the song.

Feeling like he was in a dream, Killian walked through the door.

*

Sophia closed hereyes and let the sweet music wash over her. She loved music, and she especially loved Christmas carols. She’d always been in choir in school and in church, and the Christmas carols and devotional songs by the classical composers had always been her favorites.

She began to sing and turn in a full circle, hoping the beauty of the swelling storm and the possibilities of this large, empty, historic building would wash away the frustration and sour taste of her encounter with her mom and Raoul. She knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep if she went home. She was too keyed up. So, she’d come to the mill—the place where as kids, she and Riley had stood outside the sagging chain-link fence and dreamed of all the possible things the mill could become.

And now this was her go-to place to plan. A smile curved her mouth.

Her family would come around. She didn’t want to hurt them. But she had to be true to herself. Enrique had taught her that: ‘live up to your expectations, not others’. She would honor him and their love by chasing her dreams.

“Sophia?”

She squawked, eyelids flying open. She stared at the tall, dark figure standing in the partially opened barn-style door of the building. The voice was totally familiar, and the realization of who stood there filled her both with shock and something else she didn’t want to begin to identify.

“Killian?”

So stupid. She knew exactly who he was.

“What are you doing back in town?” she demanded breathlessly.

Dang it. She wanted to sound strong, unaffected.

He walked toward her. Long legs, athletic stride, broad shoulders squared off, and that jaw jut that took on the world. His walk still had the hint of a…prowl to it. A swagger. Riley had teased Killian about it in high school. She’d called it his babe-slayer saunter. The swagger twins had been Enrique and Hunter Hawkins—the two tight ends to Killian’s quarterback—and yes, those ends had been tight as Spanx.

“What are you doing here?” they both said at the same time.

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