Chapter Twenty-Three
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BY THE time Gwynn returned to the Jamboree after Aunt Maude’s spaghetti dinner with her homemade secret sauce, tiny snowflakes drifted in the air, and mini white lights illuminated the rows of kiosks with a soft, magical glow. Adjacent to the peak-roofed gazebo, where couples twirled and swayed, a live band performed a mix of Christmas carols and golden oldies, their tunes carrying across the park.
A jumble of emotions knotted along her spine, pulling her in several directions, but anticipation won out as she rose on tiptoes and scanned the crowd for Cash. She could almost forget what had kept her from Prospect all these years … and what kept her from moving back even now.
Cash wove between a nearby circle of onlookers, his grin wide, his gaze admiring. “You look beautiful.”
Gwynn smiled. She’d taken out her braids, reapplied her makeup, and left her scarf draped around her neck, trusting the evening’s darkness would adequately shroud her face.
He took her by the hand, his warmth traveling up her arm, and led her to the gazebo. “I’ve waited all day for this. I hope you remember how to swing.”
“That’s one thing I didn’t forget.”
On the dance floor, with the band playing a jitterbug version of Let It Snow, she and Cash quickly fell into the routine of the basic swing steps, adding a few intermediate moves as they grew comfortable. They spun, they hustled, they dipped, and once, Cash even flipped her over his arm.
“Do you remember they used to hold a swing competition for the students?” Gwynn asked as they completed a round of complicated footwork. “We won that year you were a sophomore and I was in eighth grade.”
“’Course I remember.” He twirled her and resumed the basic rock step. “I was a hormonal teenager, calculating which moves gave me the excuse to hold you close.” He spun her out then in again and pulled her against him. “I also remember you denied me a good night’s kiss.”
“We weren’t dating yet.”
“But then the following year …” Cash dipped her with a sexy grin. “We ended the dance with a phenomenal make-out session.”
Gwynn laughed as he drew her upright.
“If I recall, I strategically maneuvered us into a darkened alcove. Like this.” He glided them toward a corner. “We slowed our pace despite the peppy music.”
She looked away from his keen expression.
“You got shy, like you’re doing now.”
“Shut up.”
“And I lifted your chin …” With a knuckle, he raised her face to his. Her heart pounded against his chest as his thumb moved over her lips. “And I asked if I could kiss you. Again.” He lowered his head, his eyes asking the question as his mouth hovered above hers.
Her lips parted, her eyelids drifted closed—
No! She ducked her head and pressed her free hand against his chest. “We can’t. I don’t want to mislead you into thinking there can be anything between us but friendship,” she whispered. “What if I disappoint you?”
Cash sighed and dropped his hand. “You’re like a song on perpetual repeat, the annoying kind no one wants stuck in their head.”
“Thanks.”
“Gwynn, we all disappoint people at times.” He frowned. “But with you, it goes beyond that. There’s a wall you’ve built up I can’t break through, no matter what I try.”
“It’s not worth breaking.”
“Why? Do you think you’re not worth it?”
Her gaze hovered at his chin. “The proverb, ‘the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,’ exists for a reason.”
“You’re nothing like your parents. Hasn’t the way you’ve lived these last nine years proven that?”
“Because I’ve gone out of my way to prove it wrong. I’ve been intentional. But when it comes to dating relationships, I prefer to watch them on the flat screen from the safety of my couch.”
“Safety,” Cash repeated on a murmur, smoothing a lock of hair from her cheek. “I wonder … did you worry you would hurt them or worry they would hurt you ? Did you walk away first, or did you force them away before they glimpsed the real yo—” His hand tightened at her waist. “Doggone, that’s what you did with me, isn’t it? That’s why you kissed Trent at that stupid Valentine’s Day dance.”
Gwynn lowered her gaze farther to his coat collar as the live band relaxed into the heart-stirring tunes of “I’ll be Home for Christmas.”
“Why push me away?” Cash asked. “I already knew the real you. I loved you. I wanted to marry you as soon as it was legal.” He gave her a little shake. “You loved me too.”
“I did. And it scared me.” She curled her fingers into the folds of his coat. “You were the perfect son of perfect parents—”
“We weren’t perfect.”
“—Content to live the rest of your days in this town, when I simply wanted out of here. The accidental offspring of a world-class manipulator and his smarmy wife.”
“I never saw you that way.”
She forced herself to meet his gaze. “What if we had gotten married and I … I turned out to be like my mother—resentful and bitter, with a wandering eye? What if you turned out to regret your choice of a wife? I couldn’t risk us hurting each other like that.”
“So, you pretended to cheat on me?”
“Finding your girlfriend kissing another guy is less painful than catching your wife with another man. I was protecting you.”
“You were protecting yourself.” The muscles in his jaw popped. “You didn’t trust that I loved you and was committed to making things work, despite the hardships.”
The air rushed from her lungs. Was that true? Is that what she’d done? She rubbed at the pounding in her temple. “You deserve a nice girl from a stable family, Cash.”
“What if you deserve a nice guy from a stable family?”
“A nice guy from the family I may have helped destroy?” Gwynn shuddered and retreated a step. “How could you want that? Want me ?”
“Because I don’t believe it. Please—” Cash gripped her arms before she could retreat farther. “Don’t push me away again.”
“But—”
“Do you care for me?”
When had she ever not cared for him? “Y-yes.”
“Do you think you could come to love me again?”
She licked her lips and whispered, “Yes.”
“Then stop fighting the inevitable, Gwynn, and trust me. Trust us.” With a hesitant smile, Cash cupped her cheeks. “I’m going to kiss you now,” he said, his voice husky. “And I hope you kiss me back.” Her pulse raced as he inched closer.
“I thought I’d find you two hiding over here,” someone said from behind Gwynn.
Cash groaned and rested his forehead against hers. “Later, Gramps. We’re having a moment.”
“Don’t blame me for your dilly-dallying. If she were my girl, I’d have already put a ring on her finger.” Gramps took her hand and placed it in the crook of his elbow. “Gwynn, darlin’, it’s time to humor this old geezer and take a turn with me about the dance floor.”
Cash arched an eyebrow. “If you’re dancing, who’s manning the booth?”
“You. Better git to it.” Gramps chortled, leading Gwynn away, and she threw Cash a rueful grin over her shoulder.
That kiss would have to wait.
* * *
After two lively songs, Gramps walked Gwynn back to the kiosk, but Cash wasn’t there. Instead, a young woman sat at the checkout counter talking with a tall lanky fellow who wore a Montana Griz beanie and examined one of Gramps’s Santa figurines. Gwynn’s heart jackknifed, and she froze, her scarf laying limp and ineffective at her neck.
“Ah. Duke and Lainey.” Gramps rubbed a hand over his mouth, his gaze flicking to Gwynn. “Do either of you know where we might find Cash?”
The young man replaced the figurine on the shelf among the other Santas. “Cash went to the barn with a customer who asked to see his other pieces. We don’t expect him back for a while.” He looked at Gwynn. “Who’s this?”
Act natural. They might not recognize you. Forcing a smile, she held out a hand to her cousin. “Name’s Gwynn Sadler.”
“Duke Forrester.” He shook her hand, his gaze sharpening. “Nice to meet you.”
The woman slid from the stool and joined them. “I’m Lainey, his sister.” She took Gwynn’s hand and studied her face. “So, you’re Gwynn. Tessa Reynolds mentioned you earlier.”
“Oh?”
“She said she suspected …” Lainey swallowed, her fingers tightening. “She said you might be Hadley Jacobs.”
Gwynn’s heart pounded in her ears. When had Tessa begun to suspect? Had Cash said something?
“You do resemble her … kind of …” Lainey’s smile trembled, her expression hopeful.
Gwynn averted her gaze, the telltale sting of tears back in her eyes. If she lingered much longer, she’d cave and confess everything. Lord, how do I get out of this?
Or was she supposed to face it?
“Tessa’s delusional, Lainey.” Duke waved a hand at Gwynn. “Sure, there’s a similarity, but Hadley is …” His expression hardened. He crossed his arms and glared at Gwynn. “You know, that would be a cruel trick for her to play, pretending she’s dead when all along she’s been alive.”
Gwynn’s cheeks burned and her lungs constricted. She’d fled Prospect in a daze of horror and desperation, focused solely on herself … yet she’d created a different horror for the loved ones she left behind. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make things awkward.” She retreated from the pair.
“You didn’t make it awkward.” Lainey frowned at Duke. “My brother did. Don’t leave on account of him.”
“I need to get going, anyway. Nice to … meet you both.” She flashed Gramps a smile and hurried from the kiosk through the dwindling crowd toward the side street. That was too close.
“Gwynn, wait!”
She glanced back. Resigning herself to the confrontation, she let Lainey catch up to her.
“Forgive Duke’s rudeness. We each dealt with Hadley’s loss differently.” Lainey’s eyebrows drew together. “But … I can’t let this go, and I’m sorry if I’m now the rude one, yet the resemblance—” She pressed her gloved hands together by her chin. “It is you, isn’t it, Hads?”
Pinpricks of light danced at the edges of Gwynn’s vision. “Lainey—”
“We had tea parties with our stuffed animals. Fed donuts to my dogs. Paraded around in Mom’s too-big high heels.” Lainey choked back a sob and drew Gwynn into a hug. “I know you,” she whispered in Gwynn’s ear. “Beyond the hair and colored contacts, I know it’s you, Hadley.”
A whoosh of memories assailed Gwynn in that hug. Yes, the tea parties and dress-ups, but also the board games and romps in the woods and myriad sleepovers. Anything that allowed Gwynn to escape her dysfunctional home life in favor of a sound one.
Gwynn gave Lainey a fierce squeeze, and tears leaked from her eyes. “Yes, it’s me. I’m sorry for the deception, but it was necessary.”
“ Why ?” Lainey pulled away and wiped her own tears. “I don’t get it. I friggin’ went to your funeral —”
“Shh.” Gwynn dragged Lainey to a secluded spot behind a kiosk. “Look, I know you want— deserve —an explanation, but it’s a long story. Can we meet up another time to chat? Maybe … Monday morning?” Since she wasn’t flying back to Boston, she may as well fill her schedule. Less free time meant less time to ponder her life’s current messy state.
“How about you come out to the farm?”
“No, your folks can’t know about me yet.” Gwynn glanced over her cousin’s shoulder at the milling crowd. “The fewer people who know I’m alive, the safer it is for me right now.”
“But Duke probably suspects. And Tessa—”
“They suspect, but they don’t know for sure.” Gwynn fisted the ends of her scarf. “I aim to keep it that way for as long as possible.”