Chapter 4
REESE
The day after Thanksgiving Grace had called to ask Reese to come to dinner at her home.
Grace had an idea for a program for at-risk youth and wondered if Reese was interested in helping.
Pastor David, the new, young minister at the community church had already committed to the project, as had Kris Olaffson.
No surprise there. Kris was always the first to raise his hand to help with anyone in their community who needed assistance.
Reese made no promises, other than to join them for dinner.
December was a busy month for her, given the dance recital the week before Christmas.
Regardless, she was always interested in being part of the community of Sugarville Grove.
She’d already accepted before she realized Roan was back in town.
Now, as she was driving out to the Hayes farm, it occurred to her that Roan might be there.
Grace was his aunt after all. She almost stopped the car and turned back toward home, but she hated any kind of flakiness.
Unlike Roan on prom night, she always showed up when she said she would.
Anyway, if he were invited or not, there was nothing to be done about it now.
She’d said she would come, and she didn’t want to disappoint Grace.
Also, she was curious to hear about Grace’s idea.
Reese arrived exactly on time, parking next to an SUV she didn’t recognize.
She grabbed the bottle of wine she’d brought and headed up the porch steps.
Through the window, she could see people gathered in the living room.
Her stomach dropped when she recognized the broad shoulders and hair the color of dark honey.
Roan was indeed here.
No going back now. Time to face him and whatever feelings it brought to the surface.
And truthfully, now that the shock had worn off, she had to admit to herself that she was curious about him.
He was a man now, not a teenage boy. Was he as emotional and headstrong as he’d been at seventeen or had the years mellowed him?
And really, she told herself, it was no big deal.
He was her high school sweetheart. No one ended up with their high school love.
Or rarely, anyway. She’d been such a romantic back then, thinking of them as fated.
Soulmates. What a joke that had turned out to be.
Her father had been right after all. He’d insisted he was not someone she could or should build her life around.
She’d known it was true as she’d stripped off her prom gown and crawled into bed, crying herself to sleep.
Yet, the way he’d left had hurt more than anything that had happened then or since.
Raised in a cold and sterile home, she had clung to his warmth and sense of adventure.
Her father had said he lacked discipline, but she’d known that wasn’t true.
He simply wasn’t an academic like her father.
No stuffy suit for Roan Hayes. It had not surprised her at all to learn that he’d become a stuntman.
The door swung open before she could knock, and Grace greeted her with enthusiasm. “Reese, so good to see you, sweetheart. Come in, come in. It’s cold outside.” Grace pulled her into a quick hug.
“This is for you,” Reese said, handing Grace the bottle of wine.
“How thoughtful of you. Shall we open it?” Grace asked.
“If you’d like, sure.” Reese drew in a breath, enjoying the homey scents of roasting meat along with a hint of cinnamon and sugar.
Grace was famous for her Christmas cookies.
For years and years, Reese hadn’t eaten cookies or anything sweet.
She’d felt such pressure to remain thin for her dance.
Now, however, after taking Mia’s cooking class last year, she was learning that food could nurture, delight, and comfort.
In moderation, of course. But she allowed herself a cookie or two on occasion.
Most people wouldn’t understand what a big deal that was for her.
She was proud of herself for growing and evolving, even if it was sometimes still hard not to count every calorie that went into her mouth.
She shrugged out of her long coat, and Grace hung it in the entryway closet.
While she did so, Reese took in the house, already decorated for Christmas.
Their Christmas tree stood in the corner by the windows, at least nine feet tall and decorated with what looked like hundreds of cream and gold ornaments.
White lights twinkled throughout the branches, with delicate glass icicles hanging from the tips.
A woven basket skirt circled the base, already overflowing with wrapped presents.
How anyone was this prepared for Christmas in the beginning of December was beyond comprehension. That was Grace Hayes for you.
Everything was perfect. A real fire crackled in the stone fireplace, filling the room with warmth and the soft scent of woodsmoke.
Pillar candles of varying heights surrounded by sprigs of evergreen and pine cones were clustered on the coffee table.
More greenery draped the mantel above the fireplace, interspersed with more candles and what looked like vintage glass ornaments.
Kris occupied a chair near the fire, still in his postal service uniform, a beer in hand and his Santa-worthy white beard neatly trimmed. Walter stood by the mantel talking to Pastor David and a woman Reese recognized as Mrs. Chen from the high school.
Through the open archway to the dining room, a long farmhouse table already set for dinner with a stunning centerpiece of fresh greenery, white ornaments, and candles running the length of the table.
This was what a family Christmas should look like.
Not the minimalist decor once favored by her mother and father.
Reese hadn’t yet bothered to decorate her little house.
She hadn’t decided if she even wanted to.
Christmas was about her studio and the recital.
She always felt so wrung out by the middle of December, she wasn’t sure she would have the energy.
She stepped out of the foyer and in to the living room. She froze. Coming down the stairs was Roan. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second before Reese looked away, heart pounding.
Grace took her arm, pulling her close to the fire. “You know everyone, I think? Mrs. Chen, Pastor David, and Kris.”
“Evening, Reese,” Kris said with a warm smile. “Heard you’ve got quite the Christmas show planned at the studio. My granddaughter is very excited.”
“Maya’s a delight,” Reese said.
“She gets that from my wife,” Kris said.
“I don’t know about that,” Reese said. “You’re pretty charming yourself, Santa.”
Kris grinned. “I try my best.”
“Reese, glad you could make it.” Pastor David shook her hand. His kind eyes crinkled at the corners. “I haven’t seen you in church the last few weeks.”
“Oh, well, I’ve been busy with work,” Reese said, flushing. “I’ll try and make it next Sunday.”
“Very good,” Pastor David said. “It’s always nice to see your face in the pews.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Reese,” Mrs. Chen said. She was a petite woman in her fifties with eyes that seemed a bit world-weary. She worked with high school kids, which might explain it. God bless her.
“You too,” Reese said. “Do any of you know what Grace’s big idea is?”
“Not a clue,” Mrs. Chen said.
“All she told me is that she had an idea and wanted me to be a part of it,” Kris said.
Reese glanced over at Roan who had sat on the end of the sofa.
“Don’t look at me,” Roan said. “She just asked if I could come for dinner to hear about her idea.”
Kris grinned, shaking his head. “Sure is great to have you back in town, Roan. Did I hear right that Jason’s here for the holidays?”
“That’s right,” Roan said.
“How long were you away?” Mrs. Chen asked politely.
Roan shifted, crossing one boot-clad foot over his knee. “Fifteen years.” He went on to tell her about his work as a stuntman. Reese couldn’t help but gobble up the information about his life.
“You were in Los Angeles the whole time?” Mrs. Chen asked.
“Yeah. Followed Jason out there after high school.” He paused, a muscle in his jaw twitching “He had a scholarship to theater school. I didn’t have much of a plan, honestly. Got a job at a gym, started training in martial arts and parkour, and kind of fell into stunt work.”
“How fascinating. Tell us more, please.” Kris leaned forward with interest.
Roan’s expression warmed. “High falls were my specialty—falling off buildings, getting thrown from vehicles. Worked on action films, Marvel movies, that kind of thing.”
“That sounds incredibly dangerous,” Mrs. Chen said.
“It was.” Roan rubbed the back of his neck. “Injuries are part of the job. You learn to work through pain or you don’t last. I made it to thirty-three before I had the big one.”
“What happened?” Mrs. Chen asked.
“Train stunt went wrong,” Roan said. “Supposed to land on an airbag, but timing was off. Compressed my neck pretty severely. C5-C6 vertebrae. Could have been paralyzed. By the grace of God, I was all right.”
“Oh my goodness,” Mrs. Chen said, her hand going to her heart.
“Doctors told me I was done,” Roan said. “One more injury like that and I’d be in a wheelchair. So that was the end of my career.”
“It must have been a bitter pill to swallow,” Pastor David said. “Losing work you loved.”
Roan shrugged. “Yeah. Still is, some days. But I took it as a sign. Time to come home and start something new.”
“And open a gym,” Kris said.
“That’s right.” Roan smiled. “Can’t do stunts anymore, but I can still help people become stronger and healthier.”
“That’s wonderful,” Mrs. Chen said warmly. “Turning your experience into something positive is admirable.”
“Build it and they will come kind of thing?” Kris asked.
“That’s right,” Roan said.