Winter in Wonderland Read online

  And soon it would be Sam’s to do with as he pleased. Maybe he’d sell it too. He’d said he wanted it to try to get her to come back, but she had come back and it had been disastrous. There was nothing left for her in Wonderland. She sealed up the paint can, feeling like she did when she finished a particularly long flip. She was sad to see the work end, but more than ready to move on. She had to move on because she couldn’t stay. Now that she was done with this house, she’d walk over to the reno, finish the cleanup, then come back and pack.

  Ashley lifted the angel off the table and set it gently in the trash. “I’m sorry, Grammy. I’ve fixed what I could. Sam will take it from here.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Christmas morning should’ve been a time for hope, but Sam’s chest felt heavy instead. He stared at his ceiling and went over in his head what he had to do that day. First off, call his parents and cancel getting together in the evening. Second, get in contact with Ashley – if she’d let him – and try to figure out where they could go from here. Nothing else was important.

  He sat up in bed, brushed his hair out of his eyes and slid on his glasses. He still needed a shave, but that could wait. He speed-dialed the number for home.

  “Hello?”

  His mom’s voice warmed him and gave him a boost of courage. “Mom, I’m not going to be able to make it this evening. Ashley has been back in town and I need to spend time with her.”

  “She’s home? How long? I hadn’t heard.”

  Ashley had kept to herself – he, the young waitress at Molly’s and the kids who did checkout at the grocery store were probably the only people who’d seen her. Oh, and Chelsey. He hadn’t invited her to church or anywhere else. She’d been so focused on the house, he’d been sure she’d say no. “She’s been here about a month.”

  “Oh, Sam, that’s wonderful. I’m so glad you two are back together. That’s an answer to prayer.”

  He could hear the joy in his mother’s voice. He couldn’t break that, not on Christmas. If he messed up and couldn’t make things right with Ashley, he’d tell his mom after the holiday. “So I’m forgiven for skipping Christmas dinner?”

  She laughed. “Of course you are. Though you could always bring her by in the evening. We’d love to see her.”

  He wasn’t even sure she’d let him in her door. “We’ll see. She’s thinking about leaving town again tomorrow. I’m trying to spend every minute with her I can.”

  “You do that. Merry Christmas, and pass our good wishes on to Ashley too.”

  Sam finished the call and scratched his chin as he thought of how he was going to get a hold of Ashley. With his number blocked, face to face was the only option. He hoped she hadn’t gotten a ride out of town yet, or he’d really be up a tree …

  His phone rang. The number wasn’t familiar, but it was local. “Hello?”

  Chelsey’s wheedling voice. “Hello, Sam. Merry Christmas.”

  “Go away, Chelsey.”

  “Oh, don’t be like that, Sam. Why get all emotional?”

  “You seem to be under the impression that you can rule my life. You can’t. I’m not interested. I’ve never been interested. And you will rue the day you thought I was.” He was boiling, and mot afraid to let her know it.

  “Whatever. My daddy will still vote that ordinance in. You’re on the wrong side of this issue, Sam. You could be on the right side.”

  To his own surprise, he laughed. “The house is done. If it sells before your ordinance goes through, you’ll be stuck in a town full of people angry with you and your daddy for enacting such foolish, limited legislation. It’s an abuse of power. And it’ll get Daddy bounced in the next election.”

  She gasped. “I can’t believe you’d talk to me like that. I would never treat the voters with such contempt.”

  “You treat everyone with contempt.” He hung up on her, feeling both sick and happy. Standing up to Chelsey was getting easier. He’d always assumed speaking against people was rude, and speaking against people who had more power than him would mean he’d automatically lose. But he didn’t have to just sit back and take abuse lying down. Sometimes you had to fight.

  He tossed on some clothes, business casual, and headed out the door to walk to Ashley’s. Normally, he’d drive, but he didn’t want the noise of his truck to give him away. She might not come to the door if she knew it was him. If she didn’t answer anyway, he’d … heck, he had no idea what he’d do. The only other option was to break in, and not only was that illegal, it wouldn’t give the right impression.

  The snow had let up some, but was still coming down on top of the five or six fresh inches covering everything. Shades of gray and white gave the landscape a new feeling as he trudged up the hill. In the dreary weather, Grammy Jean’s house was cheery with the red door and warm orange trim.

  He trudged through the snow to the back door, seeing no footprints. Ashley hadn’t left, then. She was still inside. He knocked and waited, bouncing on the balls of his feet, anticipation tensing his arms. Everyone said you only got one chance to make a first impression, but that was nothing compared to the stress of making up for a bad last impression.

  After a minute, he knocked again. “Ashley? Please let me in. We need to talk.” He said it more forcefully than usual … but maybe a little force was called for here. Every time he’d taken the lead, it had worked out pretty well; every time he’d been content to follow, it had caused issues.

  She was most likely in the kitchen, right on the other side of that door – it was the warmest room in the house. If he owned the place, he would’ve opened the walls, blown in some fresh insulation, and made sure the heating was more efficient. Those two things alone would make the house more welcoming for Ashley.

  He knocked twice more with no result, sighed and headed back around the house, hoping Ashley would throw open the window upstairs and call out, telling him she’d forgive him if he’d just come back, like in some sappy movie. But this wasn’t a movie, this was reality.

  He’d walked about a block away when a red Mustang pulled up across the road. A large man with a thick white beard climbed out – he looked too large to fit in that car – and crossed the road without looking for traffic, not that there was any. His red wool coat made him look a little like a lumberjack, but Sam had never seen him in the lumberyard before. He touched the cuff of his bright red beanie in welcome. “Good morning.”

  “Morning,” Sam mumbled in return and kept going.

  “Quite the day, isn’t it?” The man matched his stride to Sam’s.

  It was rare to come across someone he didn’t know in Wonderland, and unheard of to have someone just join him on the sidewalk. “Um, yeah.” Then he remembered where he’d seen this man, and his car … “Wait, you’re a friend of Ashley’s. Are you here to pick her up?” Though if he was, why was he here walking away from Grammy Jean’s?

  “Maybe. Depends on you.” The man locked his hands behind his back and kept walking alongside Sam, his jaunty stride making him bounce.

  “Me? I’ve tried to reach Ashley. She’s not going to talk to me.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. Do you believe in Christmas miracles, Sam?”

  Of course he did – being a Christian required it. The Virgin Birth, the wise men, the Child born to save the world. “Yes, but …”

  The man offered his hand. “Name’s Nick. I’m here to help one special lady find her path this Christmas, and you, young man, are screwing up my mission.”

  “Wait, what?”

  “You heard me. I get some pretty important jobs this time of year. I’m not the best at keeping my cover, which is why my name gets kicked around so often this time of year.” He laughed, the noise seeming to bounce off the surrounding mountains. “But I think I do pretty good work – and I don’t enjoy having to double back and redo it when someone won’t get with the program. Gets them on my figurative naughty list.”

  Sam glanced around, but no one was around. He tentatively shook Nick’s
hand … then realized the other man had left no footprints in the snow. “What the …?”

  “Ah, you’ve figured it out. Good – takes most people longer. No one else can see or hear me unless I want them to.” Nick winked. “Now, to get Ashley back where she’s supposed to be – which coincidentally was with you – we need to leave her be for now.”

  “Leave her be? That’s your plan?” Sam wanted to run right back up the hill. He knew he should be with Ashley! Everyone did – except Ashley.

  “Exactly – now Ashley needs to figure it out,” Nick said, as if Sam had spoken his thoughts. “Don’t bother her until you’re summoned - no knocking on her door, no yelling to her, no trying to call or text from another phone. She’s discovering some things she needs to in order to get stronger. And you’ve got your own things to work out, so pay attention.”

  Sam kept walking, assuming Nick was just going to follow him anyway. It wasn’t like he could call the police and report him – talking to him wasn’t illegal. Besides, he could clearly see in the fresh snow that Nick was not of this earth. “What do I need to do?”

  “Later today, you’ll have the opportunity to say what you want to. If you jump the gun, it won’t work. Let her be. She needs to see you as you are now, not as you were then, and she’s too confused to tell the difference.” Nick kicked a snowdrift and almost landed on his rear. “One of these years I’ll figure out how that’s done.” He sighed. “Oh, and I’ve arranged a little more help for you. He’ll be coming down the street any minute.”

  Sam rolled his eyes, tired of the theatrics. “It had better not be a reindeer with a glowing nose …” He turned, but Nick was gone. So was the Mustang. “Whoa.” He took a deep breath and shook his head. Was this from lack of sleep? Too much daydreaming about sappy movies? Or had he just gotten romance advice from Santa? And what was this “little more help” he’d talked about?

  Then he saw Malcolm at the end of the block, waving as he lugged his metal detector down the street. Sam smiled and nodded back, and the other man jogged up, his face brightening with each step. “Sam! Just the man I was looking for.”

  “Hey, Malcolm. What can I do for you?” He resisted the urge to look at his watch. What if the person he was supposed to meet was around the block and he missed them because he was talking to a crazy old man – one that actually left footprints?

  Malcolm dug in his pocket and pulled out an object crusted in dirt. “I found this today when I was walking along the back of old Jean Kelsey’s property, where her garden used to be. I can’t explain it, but I just feel like I need to give it to you.” He smiled and pressed the dirt clod into Sam’s hand. “Merry Christmas to you.” He continued downhill.

  Sam looked at … whatever it was. It was less than an inch across and too heavy to just be dirt. He brushed it with his thumb, and the whole center fell out, leaving the shape of a ring. He turned around, but Malcolm had gone around the next corner.

  If this was a ring that had been found on Grammy Jean’s property, could it have belonged to Ashley’s grandmother? He shoved it into his pocket and jogged home, a plan already forming in his mind.

  Once inside, he didn’t even take off his boots or coat, but went right to the kitchen sink and turned the hot water on as high as it would go. His fingers shook slightly as he ran the mysterious treasure under the water, scrubbing it off with his fingertips, then with soap and a mushroom brush. What was left was a gold ring, obviously a wedding band, engraved on the inside.

  He found a magnifying glass in his junk drawer and held the ring under the bright light by the kitchen sink. The faint engraving became clear – “Kelsey,” in fancy script.

  Sam stood there for an endless time, staring at the ring. It was a sign, he was sure. But as long as he couldn’t talk to Ashley, the sign still seemed to read “dead end.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  A month ago, she’d been sweating away in Arizona; now she was freezing in South Dakota. Ashley tossed her freshly washed jeans into her bag. Some Christmas. Packing. In a few minutes, she’d walk down to the reno for the last time and put the key in the lockbox. Tomorrow, she’d meet with Evelyne and sign it over to Sam. That would be the end of her career flipping houses, the end of her time in Wonderland, the end of … oh, don’t even think about it.

  She couldn’t do it anymore. Now that she’d been back home, she wanted the security of having a place that was hers. She couldn’t have that as a lone house flipper. The first flight out of Rapid City the next morning would go to Denver. She’d find something to do there, and forget about Sam for good.

  Her phone buzzed and she glanced at the number before answering. “Hello, Evelyne,” she said dourly. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Not even remotely. Just so you know, I’m not pleased, and neither is Derrick. We planned for a nice vacation, but when he hasn’t been working, I have – on your contracts. By the way, did you know there is nowhere in Wonderland you can have copies made on Christmas Eve? Luckily, Molly remembered me and took pity on me or you wouldn’t have contracts to sign.”

  She felt a little guilty. “I’m sorry, I just need to leave. It’s that simple.”

  “It is far from simple and you know it. One minute, you were in love, the next you were blocking him from your life again. Talk about mixed signals. You’re telling him to go away while giving him a house and offering to sell him another. Quite the parting gift.”

  “Look, I can’t compete with Chelsey. Maybe I never could.” She just wasn’t strong enough anymore. If she’d fought before, maybe Chelsey wouldn’t have been an issue, but if Sam wasn’t willing to ignore her, then he never would.

  “You know I’m not one to get preachy on you. Heaven knows I’m no saint. But Jesus said to—and I’m paraphrasing here—treat others like you’d treat yourself. So put yourself in Sam’s shoes. I know, they’re big, messy and probably his only pair. Do it anyway. Wouldn’t you want him to listen to you if you were reaching out?”

  She glanced down at her boots. They were much like Sam’s, only smaller. If she’d been, Heaven forbid, singing in a choir and one of her choirmates leaned over and kissed her in front of Sam, she’d have been mortified. And probably slap the guy hard enough to draw blood. But Sam wouldn’t slap a woman, or even Chelsey. He’d probably be stunned into silence. “You’re right. I’ll talk to him before I go.”

  “You sure will. I won’t give you a ride or let you see these papers unless you do.”

  “Okay, okay. Meet me at the reno in an hour.” Ashley hung up, threw her last few flannels in her bag and zipped it shut. She pocketed her key and shoved her arms into her coat. Then she checked to make sure Sam wasn’t still outside. Just because she said she’d talk to him, didn’t mean she wanted to do it right that second. She’d probably cry. She didn’t want to ever let him see her weak again. But the coast was clear.

  She headed for the reno house, thankful the snow had finally stopped after a day and a half. Even with the holiday, county road crews would be out making sure travelers could get to and from their destinations. Sam’s father would have been doing it years ago … oh, for Pete’s sake, why couldn’t she ever have a thought that didn’t start or end with Sam? Tears burned behind her eyes and she blinked rapidly to keep them there, not running down her cheeks.

  She jogged up the walk to the reno house, now ready to sell. All that was left was the paperwork and she’d be free. She shoved the key in the knob and pushed her way inside.

  The house hadn’t been heated in two days, and she shivered. She and Sam had decided not to turn the water back on, since they didn’t know how quickly it would sell and didn’t want to heat it indefinitely. If the pipes burst, they’d have to invest even more money. As of now, almost a third of the mortgage they’d originally taken out was paid. This house felt more hers than any other had, just by virtue of how much she’d invested in it.

  Yet it was Sam’s too.

  She walked through the house, touching all the fixtures and r
emembering putting them in - or helping Sam install them. She remembered picking out the lighting on a long ago trip to Rapid City with him. They’d come home with a truckload of them and so many laughs.

  In what they’d named “the baby room,” she stood in the little nook where a crib waited to be used. That room filled a need in the bed-and-breakfast town – not one of the Ladies had a room designed for a baby to stay. Now they would, if Evelyne could sell the house or if Sam was willing to start his own business.

  She heard the front door open. She hadn’t realized she’d wasted so much time reminiscing and Evelyne had to have arrived. She went over to the top of the stairs and saw Evelyne march in – with Sam coming right behind her. What did she think she was doing?

  “Ashley.” Evelyne yelled loud enough to wake the dead as she flung her valise on the kitchen’s center island. “The hour of reckoning has come. Let’s get this over with, so maybe I can enjoy some of Christmas.”

  Ashley bit her lip. Both of them probably had places to be. She didn’t, not until tomorrow. She went downstairs and into the kitchen. “I’m sorry for the timing, it’s just …” She couldn’t finish, not with Sam standing right there. If he knew she was leaving, he might try to get her to stay. Worse still, she might have trouble saying no.

  Evelyne jerked out two thick packets of paperwork, slid one to Ashley and handed the other to Sam. “This is just as you requested, Ashley. This house in its entirety, including the lot, will go to Sam Patterson until such time as he decides to sell. At the sale of the property, half of the sale amount up to no more than the amount invested by Ashley Rogers will be returned to her. Flip to page ten.” She scowled at both of them like a high school teacher on her last nerve.

  Ashley hurried to do as she was told. Page ten outlined the sale of Grammy Jean’s house. She gulped at the thought of relinquishing the one place that seemed like home. Leaving Wonderland hadn’t been so hard the first time – Grammy had still been alive, and her parents still had connections there. Now she was leaving herself no reason to ever return.