Chapter Four
HOLLY
I wake to a light streaming in through the window, blinding me as I crack my eyes open. The late morning sun reflects off the snow outside, making everything brighter than I want it to be. I can’t help but grumble as I get out of bed and go in search of tea. Specifically, more of that Christmas tea from last night. No matter how much I dislike the holiday, that drink last night was delicious.
Throwing on a sweater and jeans, I make my way down the hall, shivering with every step. I immediately miss the warmth of the bed, but it’s nothing that a good cup of tea can’t fix.
I open every cabinet, looking for anything that will resemble a tea bag. Dated china and glasses fill one side of the kitchen, matching the decor from the last millennium. A normal person would feel the nostalgia of this and smile at the reminder of their childhood. Not me. Thinking back to that time period only makes me want to leave this place faster, go back to the city, and forget all about Candy Cane Creek.
I have a feeling I don’t really want to, though. And it’s all thanks to a handsome, blue-eyed dog owner.
Letting out a sigh, I know there’s only one place I’m going to get my tea, and that’s at the main house. While it feels foreign to me to just walk into someone’s home like I own it, I don’t seem to have any other choice.
I put on my boots, grumbling when I realize I don’t have a coat. I look out the window and see it’s only a couple hundred feet from this door to the main house. Surely I can make it without catching hypothermia, especially if I make a run for it.
I rush out the door, closing it harder than I need to behind me as I dash down the stairs, trying to stay in the path that Rex must have shovelled at some point since he left last night. With my head down, I hug my chest and start to sprint. The bitter cold wind whips against my face as I keep my eyes down, focused only on the path directly in front of me.
I place my right foot down in front of the other and immediately feel my mistake. I failed to notice the shimmery ice patch under the powdered snow, and now my arms are flailing, trying to regain balance as my feet fly into the air. I twist at the last second, laying in a previously untouched patch of snow, arms and legs spread as if I were making a snow angel.
I look up at the clear sky above me, wondering how I got here. If everything had gone according to plan, I’d be at home in my apartment in the city, curled up in front of my electric fireplace, reading a novel, and pretending it was anything but the Christmas season. Instead, I’m laying in the snow, stuck in a town that is the epitome of the season I can’t stand, and now I’m cold and wet, too.
Two shadows cross over me, one significantly shorter than the other. It’s only a second later when two heads appear, both tilted to the right, one with a quizzical look and the other wearing a large fluffy Santa hat.
“Are you okay?” Rex asks as he holds out his hand for me.
“Just. Fine.” I grit out through my teeth as I take his hand and let him pull me up.
Of course, he would see me fall. Of course, he and his ridiculously quirky dog would come to my rescue. Why wouldn’t they?
Rex grasps my outstretched hand and lifts me as if I weigh no more than a doll. Once I’m on my feet, he brushes snow off my shoulders and arms, looking me over. “Are you alright? You didn’t hit your head, did you?”
“No. I—uh—I’m fine. Just a little winded.”
And embarrassed.
“Let’s get you inside and warmed up.” Rex places his hand on my lower back as he holds my hand in the other.
“Really, I’m fine,” I demand as I pull away from him. I promptly slip on another piece of ice. This time, Rex is there to grab my waist and hold me to him.
I ignore the way my heart rate climbs from a simple touch. Or the way my cheeks flush as he looks down at me with a smile.
“Are you sure about that?” His smile grows wider.
“Yup. Just—maybe you should salt more.” I brush the hair out of my face and straighten the best I can, trying to act cooler and more put together than I am.
“Sure.” He laughs as he walks me to the main house. This time, not letting go of me the whole way.
Once safe and inside Rex’s warm home, I’m immediately welcomed with the scent of coffee. While it’s not my go-to, I would take anything warm right now.
“Take a seat in the kitchen. I’ll be right in,” he says from behind me as I shuck off my boots and make my way down the hall.
A wooden staircase with a beautiful oak bannister wrapped in garland and ribbons stands to my right. White walls adorned with family photos and wreaths line the walls with every step. I continue my way through the first floor, shocked to see a small table decorated with a poinsettia surrounded by various snow globes. I’ve never seen anyone decorate like this. Let alone a man. A man who, as far as I know, lives alone.
The polished hardwood floor leads me to an open kitchen. I’m greeted with crisp white walls with floating shelves and matching white cabinets decorated with more wreaths and ribbon. Small potted poinsettias, greenery and holly adorn the nearly empty countertops.
What really takes my breath away is the large island in the middle of the room. A rustic wood island is topped with a sparkling light grey marble countertop that shines in the morning light, making it the most magnificent centrepiece of the room. The kitchen itself is nearly the size of my apartment. Something this amazing is a house that I could only ever dream of.
If I ever had a desire to live outside of the city. Which I don’t.
At least, I think I don’t.
“Here you go,” Rex says as he comes up behind me, placing a fleece blanket over my shoulders.
I jump at his touch, having not heard him enter the room.
“Is everyone in town this…festive?” I ask as I take a seat on a wooden stool at the island.
“Usually,” he chuckles as he fills his kettle from the island sink. He looks up at me with a smirk that I shouldn’t find adorable, but I do.
“And you did all this yourself?”
This time, he lets out a deep laugh. “No. I’m helpless with decorating. Edith came over and ‘surprised’ me one day while I was at the shelter. If left to me, there would probably be lights haphazardly thrown on the mantel or a sad-looking tree in the living room.”
Sadness clouds his face as he speaks and for reasons unbeknownst to me, I want to know what put it there.
“And Edith is?” I let my voice trail off, wanting to know who this Christmas decorating ninja is.
“My neighbour.” The bright smile is back on his face as he speaks of her. “She sort of adopted us when we moved in. She’s helped me through a lot.”
“Us?” I ask, noticing his face drop at the use of the word.
I can’t help but let my gaze roam to see if there is any trace of another person who lives here. His ring finger is bare; no pictures in the kitchen. I’m mentally kicking myself for not looking closer at the pictures on the wall in the hallway.
Of course, this handsome, incredibly nice stranger would be married. There’s no way a man like this would be single, especially in a small town.
But the question is, why do I care?
He turns quickly and opens a cupboard, pulling down two mugs before closing it and moving to the next one. Boxes upon boxes of tea line the shelves, along with a few lone cans of coffee.
“You really like tea, huh?” I try to lighten the mood.
“No, actually. I can’t stand it.” He places his hands on the counter in front of him, and with his back turned to me, he drops his head to his chest. “But my wife does. Or did.”
“Wife,” I repeat. The word feels rough on my tongue as I say it, as if it were laced with molasses and struggled to come out.
“She,” he pauses for a moment, his voice soft. “She passed away. Last year.”
At that moment Tag strolls into the kitchen, Santa hat fixed firmly on his head. He sits next to his owner, placing a paw on his foot. He is rewarded when Rex drops his hand and pats Tag’s head.
“I’m so sorry.” I pull the blanket closer around me.
“Thanks.” He sniffs and turns to me. “Her name was Lauren, and she was the tea lover. This is all her tea. She bought all this when we moved into the house, saying she needed to have one for every mood.” He chuckles as if in recalling something funny. “I just couldn’t get rid of it. I’ve checked the expiry, and they are all still good, so I just make it for guests when they come over.”
A shiver rolls through my body, and it’s not from being cold and wet. The man in front of me is no longer a slightly weird, handsome, Christmas-loving stranger, but instead a lonely man, missing his wife, trying to make it through a season that is meant to be spent with the ones you love.
A silence falls over the kitchen, and for once, I don’t know what to say. He doesn’t need any more of my empathy, nor is he acting like he wants it.
“Do you have any more of that Christmas tea? It was really good.”
“I do,” he says as the corner of his mouth lifts into a slight smile. “Sorry, I should have asked if you would prefer coffee over tea. I only have gingerbread flavour and judging by your reaction to my Holly Jolly Latte last night, I assumed you weren’t a fan of sugary drinks.”
“You’d be right there,” I laugh. “Wait, that monstrosity that spilled on my coat is called a ‘Holly Jolly Latte?’”
“Yes. It’s a holiday special of Cassie’s at the Candy Cane Cafe.”
“Is everything in this town Christmas related?” I can’t help the questions that fly out of my mouth. I could say that it’s research for the blog I’m writing, but I find myself oddly fascinated by the town and its people. Or maybe just one person in particular.
The kettle clicks off and he gets to work making a tea for me and a cup of coffee for himself from the pot on the counter.
“Pretty much. The town prides itself on being a Christmas village all year long. People even come during the summer. July is one of our busiest tourist months.” He pops a tea bag into my mug, followed by the boiling water and hands me my drink.
I immediately wrap my hands around it, letting the warmth shake off the lingering bone-deep chill.
“You know, I haven’t even asked you what you do. Let me guess.” I sit up and tilt my head, appraising him. His dark brown hair is styled in a messy-but-trendy manner. His beard is short and nicely trimmed, which makes his crystal blue eyes even more striking. He’s wearing black-framed glasses around his intense blue eyes that I find myself getting lost in. I didn’t notice before that he no longer dons the horrible knit sweater, but instead is wearing a red and black plaid shirt which hangs open over a black fitted t-shirt. Worn jeans complete his outfit, making him look every inch the small-town man he is. “You’re a lumberjack.”
Rex barks out a laugh. “No. Try again.”
“Baker?” I spit out, trying to gauge his reaction.
“Couldn’t be farther from the truth.” He brings the coffee mug to his lips and takes a sip.
Why are my eyes glued to him? Why does my brain stop, and I lose my train of thought?
Job. Non-baker/lumberjack. Right.
“Accountant?”
“Should I just tell you since it seems you’re never going to guess it on your own?” He raises an eyebrow and there’s that smirk again. The one that makes me forget I want nothing to do with this town or anyone in it.
“Please,” I say as I take a sip.
“I run a dog shelter here on the farm.”
I almost spit out my tea, but resort to choking on it instead.
“Is it that bad?” he asks as he rushes to my side, placing a hand on my back. Tag follows and sits at my other side, looking up at me with what I could only describe as a dog’s look of concern.
“No!” I exclaim, rubbing my chest to ease the burn lodged there. I soften my voice as I continue. “No, not at all. I never would have guessed that.” I reach down and give Tag a pat, reassuring him I’m no longer in danger.
“Yeah, I get that a lot.” Rex takes a seat on the stool beside me as Tag lies on the floor, making himself comfortable in the sun’s rays that stream through the window. “Would you like to meet the dogs?”
I turn in my seat. “I’m not really much of a dog person.”
“I don’t know about that. You and Tag seem to get along just fine.”
As if knowing he’s being talked about, Tag lets out a huff.
“I’m going to try to not be offended by that,” I say to the dog in question.
“Come on. Let’s finish our drinks and you can come with me to feed the dogs and let them run around. Then I’ll take you into town and show you all the Christmas glory Candy Cane Creek has to offer.” His eyes light up as he speaks, letting me know just how much he loves his job and the town. It’s starting to melt my cold, grinchy heart, and I don’t know how I feel about that.
“I don’t know. I’m not sure if I should brave it out there again. Plus, there’s the small matter of not having a jacket.”
“I dropped your coat off this morning. It should be ready before your car. I think I can find something for you in the meantime.” He takes another sip of his coffee as he studies me. “Please? I really think if you had a proper introduction to the town, you’d feel different. And we wouldn’t want the blog readers to get the wrong impression about the town, would you?”
“Using logic on me, Mr. Wellington?” I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. “Fine. Let me finish this tea and then you can see if you’re up to the challenge.”
“I’m always up for a challenge.” The look he gives me is heated and makes me think he means more than changing my mind about the town.
Just as quickly as it appears, the look is gone and is replaced with sadness. His shoulders slump, and his gaze stays fixed on the coffee in his hands. “I’ll go get a jacket for you to wear.”
Rex stands abruptly, draining his coffee in one gulp, and walks to place his mug in the sink. He doesn’t look back as he leaves the room.
“What just happened?” I ask an empty room.
Tag doesn’t move, just gives me another dramatic huff from the floor.
Surprisingly, I agree with the dog.