Under the Mistletoe
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Amie Denman
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15,1K
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24
CHAPTER ONE
CARA PETERSON WAS counting candy boxes, packages of parchment paper and bottles of vanilla and peppermint flavorings. Now that it was October, the summer candy season on Christmas Island was winding down, but the holiday sweet season was in full panic mode. Not that she was worried. She liked helping her sisters Camille and Chloe keep track of how many pounds of fudge and Christmas candy they’d sold the previous season and was making projections for an even bigger one this year. Cara thrived on being busy, a trait that served her well as the youngest daughter who was as much a workhorse as the animals she cared for at the stable for her second job.
She was the dependable person everyone counted on, so much so that she’d almost forgotten to pursue what she wanted for herself. Her life had become a predictable yet comfortable pattern, but a thrill passed through her chest when she thought about the fact that it was about to change. It would rock a few boats, but for a person who lived on an island, wasn’t it about time?
“Can you take a break?”
Cara looked up and saw her friend Violet Brookstone in the open door of the storeroom tacked on to the back of Island Candy and Fudge. She held up one finger, finished counting the stack of pink-and-white striped cardboard boxes, typed the number into the inventory program and hit Save.
“Sure,” she said. “Are we taking Daisy for a walk while the sun’s out?”
Violet shook her head. “We’re meeting the ferry. My brother’s coming over with kitchen cabinets for Jordan’s house, and I want to be there. I could use a backup opinion from someone who’s always on my side.”
Cara no longer had to try to conceal a blush or suppress a sigh when Ryan Brookstone came up in conversation. It had been almost ten years since she’d completely given up her preteen crush on her friend’s older brother. The crush had simmered and required suppression for a few years, but when Ryan moved away permanently from Christmas Island and found success building luxury houses on the mainland, it had gotten a lot easier to forget him—except for the times he came to visit on island holidays and special events. He was one of the many things Cara had pushed into the corners of her brain while she’d been busy helping her friends, family and community.
Cara grinned at Violet. “It’s very nice of you to rush to the docks to see your beloved sibling.”
Cara tried to remember how long it had been since she’d run into Ryan on Christmas Island. She’d heard he’d been back a few times in the past month to measure and consult on the improvements to Violet and Jordan’s future home, but she hadn’t talked to him since the Christmas in July Holiday Hustle, when they’d partnered up and almost won—bested only by Violet and Jordan.
“Ha,” Violet said as she plopped into a chair by the door. “Beloved is technically true, but sometimes he forgets I’m not twelve. Ryan didn’t like my decision to go with painted cabinets in a beautiful dark sage, and he assured me I’d regret not going with natural wood, but I reminded him I’m the one with all the good taste in the family and he’ll have to trust me.”
Cara smiled and nodded. “It’s really nice of you to let him install those cabinets for free despite his big-brother bossiness.”
“Right,” Violet said with a chuckle.
A blast of the ferry’s horn came through the open back door of the storeroom. “The two-minute warning,” Cara said. “And I’m fully prepared to tell your brother I love the sage green whether or not I do. I’m that good a friend.”
Violet laughed. “You won’t even have to lie. Jordan’s house is going to be magazine-worthy by the time we get married and I move in.”
Cara called a goodbye to her dad, who was watching the front counter of the store, and she and Violet went out the back and walked along the shore to the ferry dock. They passed the back entrances of downtown restaurants and shops along the way. Mike Martin was filling up a bike tire from an air pump behind his bike rental, and he waved as they went by.
“I hope Ryan can stay the weekend this time,” Violet said when they approached the docks. “He’s been making quick trips, but I feel like I’ve hardly connected with him. He’s Mr. Big Business, but I think there’s something on his mind.”
“Running a business is time-consuming, as we all know,” Cara said. Ryan had been his old friendly self when she’d seen him over the summer, but he’d treated her just like he treated everyone else on the island. Pleasant but definitely as if they were part of his past. He was one of the few island kids who’d moved away but tried to maintain a connection, probably because of his sister. Cara’s older sister Chloe did the same, but the family candy business kept her tightly in the loop.
“There’s his truck,” Violet said as she and Cara stood at the top of the long sloping entrance to the island ferry’s dock.
The dockhands tied up the boat and lowered the gate, and in just moments, Ryan’s white pickup truck idled next to Cara and Violet. Even though his window was down when he drove off the ferry, he rolled it up as soon as Violet approached and sat staring ahead at the other cars exiting the ferry as if he couldn’t see her.
Undeterred, Violet pounded on his window until he finally rolled it down, barely suppressing a grin.
Oh, how Cara had once loved that devilish grin, not that he’d noticed her as anything but his little sister’s friend and a member of the island friend group.
“You know I want to see,” Violet said.
The car behind them honked the horn.
“We’re holding up the cars exiting the ferry,” Ryan said. “A hazard to navigation.”
“We’ll get in,” Violet said.
Cara wanted to object. She really did have bottles of flavoring and bags of sugar to count. But she’d promised to support her friend. Sort of. She sighed and got in the back seat of the pickup while Violet ran around and got in the front passenger seat. Clearly, Violet’s plan was to create a detour in her brother’s trip to the home site so Cara could corroborate Violet’s excellent choice of cabinets.
“Hi, Ryan,” Cara said as she leaned forward and poked her head between Violet and him. “Can you pull over downtown, let us see the fabulous pink cabinets and then drop me off at the candy store?”
Ryan turned and smiled at her, his face only inches from hers. “Dark sage green.”
Cara laughed. “I was kidding. Violet told me about your insistence on painted cabinets.”
“Did she?” Ryan asked wryly as he drove onto Holly Street. “She has definite ideas.”
“And?” Violet prompted.
“And I have to admit I don’t hate the cabinets.”
“That’s a start,” Violet said.
“But that could change when they’re installed,” Ryan added.
Cara was all about supporting her friend, but she hadn’t planned to end up taking a back seat to a sibling dispute, friendly though it may be. “I really have to get back to work,” she said.
Ryan pulled into the parallel parking space in front of the candy store. “I’ll open one box so you can gang up on me with your opinions, and then I’m going straight to the home of the guy who’s saddling himself with my little sister for eternity.”
Violet gave her brother a peck on the cheek and then hopped out of the truck. Cara followed her friend and waited while Ryan pulled back the packaging on one of the boxes in the truck’s bed, revealing a beautiful dark green.
“I don’t have to lie,” she said to Violet. “I really do love it.”
“Me too,” Violet said. “I’m going to put up a sign that says I’ll open at ten instead of nine, and I’ll ride up to the house with you.”
Before Ryan could answer, Violet dashed across the street to her island clothing boutique to put the sign in the front door, leaving Ryan and Cara standing on the sidewalk in front of the candy store.
“So, the candy business is really...busy,” Ryan said.
“Camille and Chloe have expanded it, and I’m along for the ride right now.”
He nodded. “And you and your sisters will take it all over one of these days.”
Cara felt a tiny quiver of rebellion. Not against her family, of course. She loved them and the candy business. It was more a resistance against assumptions. Why did everyone assume she would just be a candy girl—the island’s nickname for the three Peterson sisters—her entire life? Hadn’t anyone noticed that she spent at least half her time working at Christmas Island Stable and that she had also recently branched out into community service as a member of the village council?
“I wouldn’t say that,” she said.
Not that she should say much. Not until she at least told her family. But she was burning to tell someone. Ryan would drop off cabinets and leave. What could it hurt?
Ryan tilted his head and looked interested. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Christmas Island is a slice of paradise.”
“Says the guy who left and hardly comes back.”
He leaned on the side of his truck. “Can’t have everything we want,” he said.
And that’s where Cara thought he might be wrong. The thing she’d always wanted was finally a possibility, and it wouldn’t be long before everyone knew.
She glanced across the street at Violet’s boutique, but there was no sign of Violet.
“I might be able to get everything I want.”
Ryan gave her a smile and his full attention. “That’s great,” he said. “Everyone should do that.”
Which was exactly what she’d been thinking about lately. Ryan would know, right? He’d taken a risk to build a business and was, by all accounts, immensely successful. It was nice that he, with his experience, seemed to be encouraging her. It gave her a bolt of confidence. Her family and friends would encourage her, of course, but Ryan had no reason not to be truthful. She could tell him.
“I’m just about to buy a chunk of property on this island and do what I’ve always wanted.”
Ryan’s eyes widened and his mouth opened.
“Wow. That’s...fantastic. What are you going to do?”
“If things work out as I plan, I’m going to turn the riding stable into a camp for kids much like the one I went to every summer on the mainland when I was young. My own business, Cara’s Camp.”
“The stable?” he said, his expression faltering. “Gary’s stable where you work?”
She wanted to remind him he’d once worked there, too.
“Yes,” Cara said. “Can you believe I’ve worked there more than ten years?”
“But, I...” His words trailed off, and Cara could understand why. Gary had owned that stable for practically forever. It was going to surprise a lot of people when she bought it.
She put one finger over her lips when she saw Violet exiting the front door of her shop. “Listen, don’t tell anyone, even Violet. Nothing is set in stone, and I haven’t even told my family yet. I want to surprise them.”
“Your, um, secret is safe with me,” he said. “I promise.”
RYAN DROVE HIS sister, Violet, the short distance from downtown to where Jordan Frome’s home sat on a small hillside. From the front, it wasn’t obvious that the home was being renovated, but inside, it was a construction zone. Jordan lived in it, but he didn’t have much of a functioning kitchen, and the spare bedrooms were now one big room on its way to becoming a principal suite with an attached bathroom.
It was going to be a perfect house for his sister, and Ryan was honestly happy that she and Jordan had finally discovered their lifelong friendship was true love. They had trust, too, and that was something Ryan had found out the hard way was difficult to build but easy to break.
He had to shake off his bad experiences of the past year if he was going to rebuild his life. Burdening his sister with his problems and admitting his failure to his old friends on Christmas Island wouldn’t help, and the fewer people who knew about the lawsuit against his ex-fiancée, the better. This was a load Ryan needed to carry himself for a while, but the weight of his decisions had gained a metric ton half an hour earlier when Cara told him she hoped to buy the stable property.
It already had a buyer. In fact, it had a new owner.
Him.
Ryan sighed as he drove.
“Come on,” Violet said. “Is it really killing you to admit I was right about the cabinets?”
He forced a smile. “I want to enlarge the window over the sink so it won’t look too dark in there with your green cabinets.”
“Even better. I like big windows.”
“I’ll order one from my supplier, and it should be in before the weather turns cold. Don’t let me forget to measure it sometime this weekend.”
“You’re staying all weekend?”
He was planning to stay a lot longer than just one weekend, and he’d rehearsed his reason. “Your house project is keeping me busy, and the development I was working on an hour away from here is at a standstill because of a...technicality, so I was thinking of spending more time this fall and part of the winter out here on the island.”
“Wow,” Violet said. “That’s great. Do you want to stay at my place?”
“Have you forgotten I’m allergic to your dog?”
“Oh. Well, maybe Daisy could stay with Jordan?”
Ryan shook his head. “It’s okay. I’m looking for someplace to rent for a few months, just so I have a home base out here while I make sure you don’t do anything wild, like knock down a wall and add a fireplace between the bedroom and bathroom.”
“I do like those,” she said.
“Speak now if you plan on that.”
Violet laughed. “I’m trying to stay within a reasonable budget. And I do appreciate you doing the work for free.”
“Consider it a wedding gift.”
“Maybe I can return the favor someday by making a gown for your bride.”
Ryan kept his expression neutral. His sister didn’t know he’d entangled himself in a brief engagement, and there was definitely no reason to tell her now. The offer of a gown would have to wait a long time until he was ready to open his heart.
“Let’s talk about the bathroom tile,” he said.
After a tour of the construction progress and a consultation about the kitchen cabinets, Ryan was relieved to drive Violet back downtown so she could open her store. He needed time to think, and building something with his hands was how he found solace. It always had been. As a kid, he’d escaped to the garage and made so many birdhouses he’d gained a reputation as a builder by the time he was ten.
His family didn’t own a home on the island anymore, with his parents having moved to Florida, but the downtown store that had been a souvenir shop and was now a thriving clothing boutique in the capable hands of his creative sister was still a legacy of the Brookstone family.
What would his legacy be? He’d thought it would be a distinguished construction company on the mainland, specializing in custom homes with quality finishes. And it had been. Until he’d decided to take a risk that he’d be paying for with his heart and his bank account for a long time.
Ryan tried to shake it off and instead focused on fitting the cabinets along one wall of the kitchen—the wall without a window—and measuring for countertops. That would be the next design adventure, going with Violet to the countertop supplier on the mainland. He’d have to make a plan with her to catch the ferry one of these early mornings before her store opened, unless she could get Cara to run the store in her absence.
Cara. The nice, sweet, youngest daughter in the Peterson family who was always around helping everyone. He’d even heard she’d filled a gap on the village council when they needed someone. But their hurried conversation in front of the candy store stuck with him like a splinter in his finger.
She’d said she was doing what she’d always wanted to do: she wanted to buy the stable where she’d worked for many years and—what had she said? Turn it into a kids’ camp? When she’d spoken of it, her cheeks pinked up and her eyes brightened. Cara had always been a pretty girl, like her sisters. Her hair was long and brown, and her eyes were green. Something he’d noticed today for the first time. She was tall, almost as tall as his six feet, and her athletic body looked...well, she looked like a person who could handle a horse or a truckload of candy boxes or a kids’ camp.
If her heart was set on acquiring the stable, her heart was going to be broken, and it was his fault. It had been pure happenstance that the moment he needed an affordable project that would take him home to Christmas Island, his lawyer heard about a ten-acre chunk of the island going on the market. He’d had just enough money, and it had seemed like kismet.
Cara wasn’t going to think so.
When evening shadows reminded Ryan that it was time to head downtown to his temporary room at the Holiday Hotel, he couldn’t help driving past the stable on his way. He rolled down his truck’s window despite the light rain and heard the soft nicker of horses as he pulled alongside the century-old building for which he had big plans.
It wouldn’t hurt to prowl around a bit. After all, he just had to sign the papers and the property would be his. Ryan softly closed his truck door so he wouldn’t startle the animals, but as he approached the open barn door, he heard voices.
Cara’s voice. Then he noticed the car. It was the hatchback her parents had driven for years, and it was parked on the other side of the barn entrance. He stopped and listened. Having grown up on the island, he knew everyone, and he recognized the voices of Cara’s parents, Ron and Melinda, and her sister Camille.
“It’s what I’ve always wanted,” he heard Cara say. “I know it’s a big risk, but I don’t want to wait any longer. I could miss my chance to buy this property.”
Ryan froze. Cara was inside the barn with her family, telling them what she’d started to tell him that morning, and she sounded as if she were trying to justify it to them.
Oh, goodness. He retraced his steps as silently as possible and went back to his truck. Mercifully, the light shower had intensified, and a sudden burst of rain covered the sound of his truck starting. If he was lucky, he could slink away tonight, but there would be no hiding from the fact that he was about to ink a deal that would break Cara’s heart.
