His Jingle Bell Princess Page 6

  Jasmine passed through the archway to the kitchen. She stopped short, seeing Sam at the breakfast bar, his arms folded on the countertop, head bowed down.

  She knew she should leave him in peace, go back to her room without saying anything. But he looked exhausted and thoroughly dejected. She hesitated.

  “Can’t sleep?” he asked without looking up. Clearly he had heard her arrive.

  “No,” she answered. She swallowed. “You?”

  He shook his head.

  “I’ll get out of your way.”

  He turned to look at her. “You were looking for something?”

  “It’s nothing important.” There was also a phone in the living room. She could try to call from there.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “I was going to try to call home.”

  “Ah.” He gestured to the telephone. “Be my guest.”

  “I can call from someplace else.”

  “You might as well see if it works.” His gaze seemed to take in her outfit. His lips compressed in what looked like annoyance.

  “I don’t want to intrude.”

  He came to his feet. “Don’t be ridiculous.” He took three paces to the telephone counter and picked up the receiver.

  He listened for a moment. Then shook his head. “Still out.”

  Jasmine sighed and her shoulders drooped.

  “Sorry about that.” He offered.

  “It’s not your fault.”

  He gestured to a bottle of brandy sitting on the breakfast bar. “Thirsty?”

  She saw that he was drinking from a blown crystal snifter.

  It was tempting.

  “That hesitation is definitely not a no,” he said, retrieving another snifter and returning to his chair. “It’ll combat the jet lag.”

  She knew jet lag wasn’t her problem. But the brandy might help her sleep.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  He pulled out a second chair and gestured to it.

  While she climbed up, he poured the brandy. She tightened the satin sash at her waist, making sure her neckline wasn’t revealing cleavage.

  He handed her the glass.

  “I appreciate this,” she said.

  “Worried about your family?” he asked.

  “Feeling guilty not being there.”

  She wasn’t about to tell him her family wasn’t her biggest problem in this moment. It was her wayward emotions. Sitting across from him, his worn t-shirt taut across his chest and broad shoulders, a pair of grey sweats riding low on his hips, her bare knees only inches from his, her attraction to him ramped up to new heights.

  “What are you missing?” he asked.

  “Christmas celebrations for the most part. I’d accepted a lot of invitations, and I hate backing out.”

  “Belle says the airport got a message to your plane. Surely people will understand.”

  “They’ll be disappointed.” As she said the words, she realized they made her sound conceited. Without knowing what she represented in Vollan, Sam would think she was full of her own self-importance. “What I mean to say, is that it’s very rude.”

  He gave a little smirk. “I’m sure they will be disappointed. I bet you’re the belle of the ball.”

  “Not in the way you think. It’s all about my father. When I’m there, I represent him and the family.” She didn’t want to say too much, but she found she didn’t want Sam to think poorly of her either.

  “He must be a very important man.”

  “He has wide-ranging interests. When he can’t be somewhere, people count on me to convey their messages to him. He helps out.” She paused to better frame her answer. “With charitable donations, for example.”

  “I see.”

  “You can’t sleep?” she asked in an effort to move the conversation away from herself.

  She took a sip of the brandy while she waited for his answer.

  He was silent for a long time.

  “When I came into the yard,” he finally said, speaking slowly, as though it was painful. “I saw those checkerboard pants. For the smallest of seconds, I thought you were Kara. I thought she’d come back, that a miracle had happened, or that it had all been a mix-up.”

  Jasmine’s stomach clenched with regret. “I had no idea.”

  “That they were hers? Of course you didn’t. How could you?”

  “They were dress-up clothes.”

  “I always hated those pants.” He threw back a swallow of the brandy. “She liked them, but she stopped wearing them a long time ago and gave them to the girls for play.”

  Jasmine didn’t know what to say. She never would have put them on if she’d known they could hurt Sam.

  “But I should thank you,” he said.

  “What for?” The question was surprised right out of her.

  “Kara is gone. I knew that. I’ve known it intellectually for a long time. But tonight I discovered what was holding me back.” His gaze trapped hers.

  “What?” Jasmine asked in a quiet voice.

  “I need to understand it emotionally as well.” His stark honesty touched her. “I don’t know how to do that yet. But I do know I have to try. I have to try much harder.”

  “That’s admirable,” Jasmine said.

  “I haven’t done anything yet.”

  “It’s a start.”

  “We’ll see.”

  They fell silent.

  His fingers drummed on the marble countertop.

  Hers curled into her palms. She didn’t know what to do with the rush of emotion that flushed her skin and made her lips tingle like she’d tasted hot peppers. The urge to kiss him was back in force.

  His hair was mussed, his face unshaven, and his eyes were dark as espresso.

  Her lips parted.

  His breathing stopped, and the air around them seemed to crackle with expectation.

  She reached for his hand, but he snapped it away.

  “I’m sorry about the phones,” he said. Then he downed the rest of his drink.

  Now she flushed with embarrassment. What had she been thinking in trying to touch him?

  “I knew it was a long shot.” She managed, trying hard to keep her voice normal.

  “They’ll reconnect eventually.” He drew back in his chair.

  She wondered if she should leave. There was no way she could down the remains of her brandy, so she took as big a swallow as she dared.

  “Has this happened before?” she asked, trying to alleviate the tension between them.

  “Not for about ten years.” He was clearly willing to do his part to try to bring things back to normal.

  “Did you live there then?”

  “I was born here.”

  “That must be nice, to know all your neighbors.” She was making silly small talk. But she didn’t know what else to do.

  “Did you move a lot as a child?” he asked.

  Jasmine thought of the palace. Twelve generations of the Arcelus family had lived there.

  “No.”

  “Small town?” he asked.

  “Small city. Roxen Canal.”

  “Do you like it there?”

  She found herself smiling at the thought of the capital. “I love it there. It’s chock full of history and art. We have museums and theatres, parks and green space. Everyone skates on the canal in winter. And we have the most modern rapid transit system in northern Europe.”

  “You sound like a tourism commercial.”

  Jasmine felt her cheeks warm again. “I don’t mean to.”

  “It’s okay. I liked it. It sounds wonderful.”

  “It is wonderful.”

  “I hope you get back there soon.”

  “Me, too.” She did.

  So many things were waiting for her. So many things needed her attention. But for this small moment in time, she found herself glad to be in Sam’s kitchen, sipping brandy. It didn’t make sense, but it was strangely restful to be trapped here within the whirling snow and have
the world move on without her.

  Chapter Four

  “Look how deep it is now!” Amelia’s excited voice traveled from the living room to the kitchen where Jasmine was eating pancakes with Belle.

  Sam had left for work early, only mobile because of the snowplow blade fixed to the front of his truck.

  Jasmine didn’t share Amelia’s excitement. They local radio station was reporting three feet of snow with no letup in sight. A state of emergency had been declared from Maine to New Jersey. Airports were closed, roads were impassible, communications were offline, and areas were experiencing wide power outages.

  “Mr. Snowman is buried,” Sophie sang.

  “The hat,” Jasmine said to Belle, regretting that she’d left it outside.

  “What hat?”

  “I left the red hat on the snowman’s head last night.”

  Belle laughed at that. “I guess we’ll find it in the spring.”

  “We need to decorate the tree,” Sophie said, sliding into the kitchen on her sock feet. “It’s dry by now.” She skipped over to the counted and helped herself to a plate.

  Amelia appeared, giving Belle a pointed look, obviously trying to remind her about the decorations at Sam’s house.

  “We’ll see what your father says about the tree,” Belle said.

  Amelia sidled up to her. “What about the decorations?” she whispered while Sophie took a couple of pancakes from the warmer on the stove.

  Jasmine had never experienced a more relaxed and chaotic method of dining. It was odd, but not unpleasant. For the most part, Belle cooked, put the prepared breakfast food on the counter or the stove, and everyone randomly grazed their way through it.

  Belle spoke to Amelia. “You both have lessons today, and I promised to help at the church.”

  “Maybe Daddy could—”

  “I didn’t get a chance to talk to your Daddy yet.”

  Amelia compressed her lips.

  “Get yourself some pancakes,” said Belle, giving Amelia a rub on the shoulder.

  Amelia looked dejected, but did as she was asked.

  “Where’s the raspberry syrup?” Sophie asked.

  “Bottom shelf in the fridge door,” Belle answered.

  “Was that about the homemade decorations?” Jasmine asked Belle, remembering Amelia’s earlier concern about Sophie.

  Belle gave a nod. “She’s not wrong. But I’m afraid of Sam’s reaction to the idea.”

  “You don’t want to ask him.” Jasmine understood. Even though she now knew Sam was trying to work through it, his sensitivity to his wife’s death was still acute.

  “I don’t want to make a big deal about it. If I had time, I’d walk to the house and get them. The girls could quietly hang them on the tree. They’d likely blend right in. That way, Sophie feels like she’s having more of a traditional Christmas, but we’re not throwing it up in Sam’s face.”

  “Is the house far away?”

  “A little over two miles.”

  Jasmine made up her mind quickly. “I could do it for you.”

  Belle looked surprised. “Through the snow?”

  “We found some boots that fit me last night. It’ll save me from doing nothing but check on the phone lines all day long.” Jasmine liked the idea of getting outside and having something useful to do.

  “I could give you my key.” Belle was obviously warming to the idea.

  “Can you give me directions?” Jasmine asked. “Maybe draw me a map.”

  “It’s easy,” said Belle. “You walk down to Main Street then follow Main up to Green Place. It’s two blocks in, the house with twin oaks at the end of the driveway.”

  “Do you know where I’d find the decorations?” Jasmine was hesitant about going into Sam’s house, but she wasn’t about to back out.

  “They’re in the green and blue cupboard,” Amelia said.

  Jasmine suddenly realized Amelia and Sophie were hanging on every word.

  Belle looked surprised to realize it, but her expression quickly recovered. “At the bottom of the basement stairs?” she asked.

  “Daddy moved it to the playroom,” Sophie said. Her blue eyes were big and hopeful. “Are you getting my decorations?”

  Jasmine could see this was important to Sophie. “I’m going to try.” She assured her. “Where’s the playroom?”

  “Down the basement stairs,” Amelia said with breathless enthusiasm. She balanced her pancakes as she walked toward the table. “You go past the laundry room and turn. The green and blue cupboard is beside the ping-pong table.”

  “Under the window,” Sophie added. “Can you get our stockings?”

  Jasmine looked to Belle. She didn’t want to disappoint Sophie, but she didn’t want to upset Sam either.

  “Mommy made the stockings,” Amelia said.

  “Let’s pick them up,” Belle said diplomatically. “We’ll decide later if we should hang them or use the ones we made last year. I really loved the ones you made for yourselves.”

  The girls looked at each other as if seeking mutual reassurance. Their longing was clear, and Jasmine’s sympathy went out to them. She had to wonder if Sam realized what a burden he was putting on his daughters.

  “Okay,” they said simultaneously.

  “Eat your pancakes,” said Belle. “The only way to get anywhere today is by walking, so you’re going to need some extra energy.”

  Jasmine finished her own breakfast, dressed in more borrowed clothing and set off on the walk to Sam’s house.

  From what she could see that wasn’t buried or obscured by the falling snow, Tucker was a beautiful, little town. The yards were large, the houses pretty, many of them with Christmas decorations shining through the gloom.

  Main Street had been plowed, but the side streets were all buried in snow. And the snow was knee deep on the sidewalks, dampening her pants and creeping into the tops of her boots. But her hands were warm in the knit mittens, and the hood from her jacket kept the snowflakes off her hair. And the air was crisp and fresh, with the world unnaturally quiet around her.

  She experienced the same peace she’d felt in the patch of woods beside the airport. She might be stranded, but her worries were also far way, across the ocean, and there was nothing she could do about her real life right now. It could have upset her, but instead she was enjoying the respite.

  It was difficult to read the street signs since they were covered in snow. But she managed to navigate her way to Green Place. She watched the house numbers, growing ever closer to Sam’s. Then she spotted the twin oak trees, and she knew she’d been successful.

  The driveway was blown in, and it was even deeper than the sidewalks. She fought her way toward the covered porch, stumbling partway and falling into the soft snow. She couldn’t help but laugh at her clumsiness. Then she couldn’t help but imagine what Darren would say to her predicament. He wouldn’t laugh, that was for sure. He’d tell her it was undignified. It was, but she didn’t care. There was nobody here to see her.

  “Can I help you?” A woman’s voice came from behind.

  Startled by the abrupt intrusion, Jasmine swiftly came to her feet and brushed herself off. “I’m fine,” she called, turning to see a dark haired woman in a bright purple ski jacket.

  She looked to be about thirty. She was slim and short, and was having just as much trouble as Jasmine navigating the snow.

  “Are you looking for Sam Cutler?”

  “You know Sam?” Jasmine asked. She hadn’t counted on anyone seeing her here, especially someone who might report back to Sam.

  “Yes,” said the woman, making it to Jasmine. She was pretty, looking very fresh-faced and open.

  “Belle sent me,” Jasmine said. She fished into her jacket pocket for Belle’s key to prove the claim. “She needed something picked up.”

  “Are you the woman who got stranded?”

  Jasmine peeled off her glove and offered her hand. “I am. I’m Jasmine.”

  “I heard about you. I
’m Melanie Montrose.” The woman shook Jasmine’s hand. “I live next door.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Melanie,” Jasmine said.

  “You walked over?” Melanie glanced around, obviously checking to see if she’d missed a vehicle.

  “It seems to be the only way to get around today. Belle took the girls downtown for their lessons.”

  Melanie gestured to the house next door. “Good for Belle. My kids are going stir-crazy in there.”

  “How many children do you have?”

  “Three. My daughter Libby is very close to the twins. They were inseparable until…well…”

  “Belle told me about Kara,” Jasmine said softly.

  Melanie’s expression clouded. “It was a tragedy.”

  “I can’t even imagine.”

  “My husband Brock has been working on Sam, trying to help him heal, but it’s a long process.” Melanie drew in a deep breath. “It’s good that you’re getting something from the house. Dare I hope it’s to do with Christmas?”

  “It is.” Jasmine decided to take a chance on bringing Melanie into her confidence. “But Sam doesn’t know about it. The girls really wanted some special decorations for the tree. Belle thinks it’s a good idea, but she doesn’t seem sure how to broach it with Sam.”

  “That’s understandable. Brock has tried everything he knows. He’s getting ready to push harder.”

  “He sounds like a good friend.”

  “Can I offer you some tea?” Melanie asked. “It’ll be a long, cold walk back. If it would help, I’ve got a small backpack at the house you could use to carry the decorations.” She glanced down at Jasmine’s snowy cloths. “And I think we can come up with some dry socks.”

  “You’re incredibly kind.” Jasmine couldn’t help but wonder if there was any end to the hospitality of Tucker’s citizens.

  *

  For the first time in months, Sam had left his shop early. He’d meant what he said to Jasmine last night. It was time for him to move forward. Christmas might be the worst possible time for him to make that decision, but there was nothing he could do about the calendar.

  He plowed his way to his own driveway, parking at the side of the road. The sun was going down, and visibility was poor, but he could see footprints in the snow leading to his front porch.