Winter in Wonderland Page 3

  Ashley stood in place and surveyed her surroundings. She needed time, not pepperoni. She’d never let herself come to grips with losing Grammy, since she was so far away. She still wasn’t even sure what she’d do in Wonderland. “No thanks. I really don’t want to stay here. This place doesn’t need my touch, and I don’t know if I could sell it now that I’m back. How much do I have left in my account?”

  Evelyne hesitated again before replying, “Um … not a lot. You have enough to fix that place up and to live off while you do, but …”

  She focused on keeping her hurt where it belonged. “Evelyne…” Ashley swallowed hard. “I wish you’d talked to me about this.”

  “Like I said, you need this. Sometimes you get to choose change. Sometimes, the choice is made for you.”

  Evelyne hung up and Ashley bit her lip, trying to control what she could, her emotion. The other house she owned with Sam could be sold, but she’d never make back on it what they’d originally invested. They had torn out too much and it had sat too long. All she saw of the house when they’d driven by were the Kevin-Garnett-high weeds – and Chelsey crawling all over Sam. At their house. The house they’d bought for each other as an early wedding gift.

  After seven years, she shouldn’t feel so abandoned anymore. She should’ve healed by now. The goodbye had been permanent for him – why not her? Why couldn’t she just get over him?

  That was easy to answer: because in all those years Ashley had never met anyone better than Sam. Too bad he couldn’t say the same.

  The weeds were so thick around the old house that Sam had to repeatedly clear the mower blades. He should’ve brought the industrial-sized machine, more of a wood chipper on wheels that would eagerly eat saplings. But eventually he got the job done.

  Now he had to think about what to do next. That had definitely been Ashley in the car with the old man. She’d seen him with Chelsey, no getting around that, but there was nothing between him and Chelsey and—hallelujah—never would be. This might be the only chance he ever got to see Ashley again … unless she’d already run away. But if she was married, it would hardly matter.

  Well, let’s assume for the moment that Ashley hadn’t fled when Chelsey was assaulting him. She could either be staying at one of the Ladies, or she had in fact bought her grandmother’s house and was staying there. Checking there was easier than running around to each B&B asking for her.

  He pushed the heavy machine back to his truck and hefted it into the back. The cold temperatures assured that even though he’d worked hard, he wasn’t sweating. The truck’s engine turned over easily, and he let it idle for a while to warm up. No sense in rushing over there. If she was going to leave, she would and he wouldn’t be able to stop her. What he could do was tell her the truth and ask if they could start over. Unless she really was married. Then he was finished.

  Though he doubted she would want to start over, even if she wasn’t married. Why would she give him a second chance when he’d embarrassed and abandoned her? The whole town had wondered why he’d broken the engagement, and everyone had their theory. No one except Grady knew that Sam thought she’d been unfaithful, and he’d kept silent. So had Sam, which was probably as bad as telling the truth.

  He headed toward Grammy Jean’s at the top of the hill on Sleigh Bell Drive. The whole town was built on a hillside, making most of the homes in town easy to spot, but that house was especially eye-catching. That was one of the reasons he’d wanted it – location, location, location, as the real estate people said.

  When he stopped in front of the house, a few windows glowed. So he’d found her, but what would he say? “I’m sorry” didn’t begin to cut it, but he couldn’t think of a better place to start.

  He got out of the truck and slammed the door shut. A curtain on the second floor was pulled back, and there was the woman he hadn’t stopped thinking about in seven years. His mouth went dry. No turning back now – he waved so she’d know he’d seen her and strode up the walk as the curtain fluttered shut.

  He mounted the porch steps, remembering sitting on the swing with his arm around Ashley, dreaming about how they could make their house just as amazing as her grandmother’s. If only he’d trusted her. If only he hadn’t listened to a rumor. If only …

  The door swung open and Ashley stomped out, work boots pounding against the wood porch. She wore jeans and a fuzzy red sweater that looked like Fozzie Bear.

  “Go. Just go. You’re not welcome here.”

  He didn’t want to lose this chance, and he ached to hold her and make everything right. “I just want to talk to you about the house. It shouldn’t just sit there.” Idiot! Why had he mentioned the house when he’d wanted to talk about them? Maybe his subconscious knew better about what was safe than he did. Or maybe he was just a coward. His money was on the latter.

  Ashley crossed her arms, her eyes glistening. “It’s been there this long - why can’t it just stay there?”

  “That’s why Chelsey was bothering me. She wants to get the town council to slap a big fine on us for leaving it like that.” He hadn’t meant to start off on the defensive any more than he’d meant to talk about the reno house, but he should’ve known better. Rogers women never took anything lying down.

  “Here’s a bit of news – she’s been fining and threatening me for years.”

  “Really? Then why haven’t you and your husband taken care of it?” He realized he hadn’t seen the red Mustang when he got here, and Grammy Jean’s house didn’t have a garage. Maybe her husband was running errands.

  “My husband? I don’t have a husband! Is this some kind of joke? Do you enjoy hurting me? Rubbing it in that you’ve found love and I haven’t?” She turned back to the door.

  “Found love? No, I haven’t!”

  “Do tell. And Chelsey was all over you because …?”

  “Because that’s Chelsey! I couldn’t be less interested in her, you’ve got to believe me.” Not that she should trust him after what he’d done to her, but yikes, Chelsey?

  If nothing else, that got Ashley to turn and face him again. “And why do I got to believe you?”

  He sighed and backed up a step to give her space. “Because it’s the truth. Look, I’m sorry. What I did to us … to you was wrong. I believed a lie without checking it out, and I was a stupid, stupid fool. I’m sorry…” He shrugged and tossed his hands in the air. “If you don’t want me, fine, I get that and I don’t blame you a bit, but I’d like for us to finish what we started. That house deserves to be done and be lived in, and I can’t do it without you. I can’t pull new permits or anything.”

  Ashley bit her lip and glanced at the huge picture window over her shoulder. He suspected the glass in that window was three times their age. They used to love sitting on the porch swing and watching their reflection in that window as they held each other. If only they could return to those days. But then, whose fault was that?

  When she finally spoke, her voice was almost robotic. “This house doesn’t need my repair budget, but the other does. I only have the money to do one. I need the work and I need to flip that house or I can’t move on. I’ll give us until Christmas to finish what we started, then I’m having Evelyne put it on the market. You’ll get back your half of the investment.”

  Sam hadn’t expected her to be quite so cold, but at least she wasn’t married and he’d see her. He’d take his hope where he could find it. “I can do that. I’m a contractor and I don’t have any urgent jobs lined up. When would you like me there?”

  Ashley laughed and narrowed her eyes. “How quickly you forget. Bright and early. I always start bright and early.” She stalked into the house and slammed the door behind her.

  Chapter Four

  The rich, penetrating scent of coffee met Sam at the door of the reno house as he scraped his boots on the old rug. They’d left the thick mat there from before – it had been muddy that spring and Ashley hated cleaning plywood before laying floor, so she’d insisted on the rug. He�
��d gotten used to wiping his feet a lot that summer. She was nowhere to be seen, but a red Thermos sat on the kitchen’s center island with two mugs next to it. She’d obviously thought ahead. He unzipped his coat, but hesitated to take it off.

  A soft thud of boots drew his eyes to the stairs, and the sight of Ashley took his breath away. How he’d missed seeing her. She was wearing work jeans with a utility belt slung loose around her narrow hips, leather work gloves, a bright thermal shirt under a flannel, and a fluffy fitted vest zipped halfway up. “You ready to work?” she grumbled.

  Well, what did he expect, cordiality? She’d never been a crier – the only time he’d seen her weep was when he told her they were through. That was an image he could live without repeating. “I am. How’d you get here this morning? I didn’t see the Mustang.”

  “No reason you should – it belongs to the guy who gave me a ride from the airport. Who, I repeat, is not my husband.” She headed to the Thermos, poured a cup and handed it to him.

  “Ashley, it’s almost freezing outside. I know it’s not that far from your grandma’s place, but I can pick you up. You don’t have to walk.”

  “No need.” She turned away from him, cradling her own mug to let the heat seep into her gloves. “Electric company says they’ll come and get us hooked back up in two days. That means we’ll be chilly until then – and no electric tools.”

  Okay, she wasn’t going to give an inch. He’d just have to prove to her he was worth the effort. “If we had more time, I’d say let’s wait.”

  She whipped around, her blue eyes shooting nails at him. “We don’t. I’m not staying here any longer than I have to. Knowing you’re still here is what makes me want to sell Grammy Jean’s house. Otherwise, I’d stay.”

  As she probably intended, her words hit home. If he’d only listened to his heart, not the gossip. Ashley wasn’t a cheater. She didn’t even take change from the “take a penny, leave a penny” tray. How could he have ever thought her guilty of the worst betrayal?

  But he didn’t have to take abuse either. “If not for you, I would’ve bought Grammy Jean’s house myself.”

  She narrowed her eyes and set her mug down on the center island. He remembered so long ago she’d wanted to tear that counter out – she said it felt too modern. “Why would you want to buy my grandmother’s house?”

  The opening was there, but would she see his words as honest or contrived? “Lots of good memories there.”

  “Really? Wouldn’t have guessed that.” She sipped her coffee.

  He started to walk around the island, but stopped when he stepped on a squeaky board. He bounced on it to check it, old contractor habits kicking in instinctively.

  She rolled her eyes and laughed as he stood there on one foot. “You always do that. Like you can’t trust the noise the first time.”

  He couldn’t ignore that opening. “I’ve learned not to trust everything I hear. Look, let’s get this out in the open. I was told something back then, something crazy – and false. I believed it, which was stupid. I’m not looking to be your fiancé again – I’m not even looking to be your best friend. But I’d like to work with you on this project without having to bite my tongue or getting my head bitten off every five seconds.”

  Ashley tilted her head. “What could you have heard about me that would destroy what we had? We’d been in love since, what, sixth grade?” She closed her eyes, but the pain that swept over her features could write a book.

  She wasn’t quite right – he couldn’t remember falling in love with her. It seemed like he’d been born in her heart. They were best friends all through school. No one was shocked when he asked her to prom, or when he asked her to marry him after graduation. They’d still taken it slow, but neither of them had ever thought they’d be apart. “I was told you were cheating on me.”

  Her jaw dropped and she blinked rapidly. “Me?”

  As far as he knew, she’d never even dated anyone but him, but that’s what the gossip had said. Also that she wanted to try dating other people before she committed to him. It had seemed so plausible in the moment. “Yes.”

  “I … never!” She shook her head in shock.

  “I know.”

  “And I can’t believe you’d destroy us on the word of someone else. Without even talking to me?” She yanked up the zipper on her vest all the way up to her nose, hiding half her face.

  “I know. Stupid.” He could sense it was time to listen, not talk. He’d had his turn.

  “Why didn’t you try to tell me later? That I really don’t understand. If you figured out it wasn’t true, why did you let this just be for seven years?”

  At least she was talking to him now, not throwing insults. “Because I figured I didn’t deserve to have you back. I tried contacting Evelyne a few years ago, but she said you were nowhere near ready to hear from me, and I believed her.”

  Ashley pulled her phone from her back pocket. “Did Evelyne know the whole story?”

  “No, I only told her I wanted to talk to you. I’ve never told anyone why I broke off our engagement except Grady.”

  She scoffed. “Because no one in their right mind would believe it. Including Grady.”

  “Actually, I was more worried a few people might believe it and I didn’t want anyone to think poorly of you. I’d rather have them think I was the dunce who let you go. Which I was.”

  “You didn’t let me go. You shoved me away. I just obliged your request.” Ashley turned away and tucked her phone back in her pocket. “Let’s get to work.”

  Sam nodded. He could do that. He could also keep his mouth shut.

  Though the whole house was over 3,000 square feet between the two floors, Sam moved from room to room as Ashley did, never straying far. Thinking was hard when she kept glancing over her shoulder at her newly acquired far-too-handsome shadow. He’d aged wonderfully. He’d been young and lean when she’d left; now he was tall and rugged with a shadow of dark beard.

  Working with him was torture. She wanted to feel like she did before, but every time she looked at him, she heard his voice in her head telling her the wedding was off, or saw Chelsey jumping all over him. He’d said he had nothing to do with Chelsey, but she wasn’t ugly and they were both single. You never knew.

  They took inventory of what needed to be done, then went down to the kitchen, which would need the most work and the greatest expense. The family who’d lived there in the ‘70s had installed hideous dark paneling and cabinetry. It resembled a cave, not the open and airy space people liked when they stayed in a B&B.

  Their breath was visible no matter how long they worked, the air was damp like it might snow. Sam cleared his throat and mock-shivered. “What do you say we go to Molly’s for a cup of hot coffee? We can talk about our budget, what we can do with it and what we can’t.”

  No, no, a hundred times no. She wasn’t ready for everyone to know she was back, much less that she was talking to her ex. If they were seen together at Molly’s, the whole town would be aware of it by dinnertime. “Why don’t we just go back to my place? I’ve got coffee there, it’s quiet, and I’d rather not hit you with my calculator in front of anyone.”

  He laughed. “You’re right, people will talk. They like me since I’m the only contractor in a town full of historic homes.”

  Being a contractor didn’t fit with her idea of what she’d thought he’d be doing – he’d never liked the renovation part of the B&B business, preferring to be the maintenance man while she did the brain work. “Is that what you wanted to do? Did your plans change?”

  He shook his head as he poured the rest of the coffee from the Thermos into his mug and secured the Thermos lid. “ I never wanted to go into construction, but a job opened up at 101 and I was suited for it. I’ve had just about every position there except owner. And Diesel is getting up there in years – I expect to hear about a retirement any time.” Dieter Herrmann was the owner of the local Building Company 101, nicknamed “Diesel” because he wa
s almost the size of a semi-trailer cab. “Not sure I’ll have the funds to buy him out – or if I’d even want to.”

  She wondered if he was hiding behind his job like she was – putting in time, paying the bills, staying away from where his heart wanted to be because if he listened it would bring him too close to what he’d lost … she mentally shook herself. No, she couldn’t and wouldn’t assume he had the same feelings as her. He’d been the one to decide, not her.

  “Anyway,” he continued, “I won’t have to think about that until Diesel decides or something else happens.” He picked up the Thermos and headed for the door.

  She was immediately alarmed. If she didn’t follow, he’d end up at her house first … oh, chill out, she told herself. She’d been thinking three steps ahead for so long – could she release her stranglehold on every decision in her life? Had her control mattered in the slightest? Here she was, back in Wonderland, the one place she’d never wanted to return. “What will you do if he sells to someone else? Do you have a contingency plan?”

  He pulled on his ear, a tick she’d forgotten about. She’d also forgotten about his shy smile and adorable laugh lines that made her spine weak, but there they were. “Nah. I live in Wonderland. It’s not like I’ll be without a job. Everyone looks out for everyone else here.”

  She frowned. No one had looked out for her. They’d told him a lie, he’d believed it, and nobody came to her defense.

  “You coming? Or do I have to hold this hostage?” He waved her Thermos at her.

  She didn’t want to ride in his truck. She’d never liked riding with him or anyone else, not even Nick. “Can’t we walk?”

  Sam held out his hand. “Toss me the keys – I’ll get the coffee started.”

  That made Ashley angry. He was acting too much like all was forgiven, like he’d never woken up that Christmas morning seven years ago and dumped her. Like no walls stood between them. Where would she be without those walls? Defenseless. “I’m going to walk.” She shoved her hands in her pockets and headed up the street. Let him wait for her when he got there.