12. Ashley
Chapter twelve
Ashley
Of all the ways Ashley imagined spending her evening, sitting around the Winterridge dining room table with her family, gingerbread walls waiting to be assembled in front of each of them hadn’t even made the list. Whoever’s idea it was to set up the gingerbread spread right after dinner but before dessert was smart.
She glanced at Carter, who was helping Tiny and Ms. Porter to set trays of sprinkles, frosting, and God knew what else on the table.
Ashley couldn’t even recall the last time she assembled a gingerbread house. She had a vivid memory that involved Grandma Lily, Gabe, and Cole, but the memory was so deep in the recesses of her mind, she couldn’t fully grasp it.
Her eyes landed on a candy cane, and the memory slammed into her. Gabe had reached for the red icing and accidentally knocked one of the candy canes off Cole’s roof. Cole burst into tears, and Grandpa studied the lopsided house and suggested they start over, which only made Cole cry harder.
Grandma Lily had laughed, picked up a gumdrop and pressed it over the broken spot. “Perfect,” she’d said. “Every house has its imperfections. Just like Winterridge.” She’d raised an eyebrow to Grandpa, who muttered something about letting her paint the guesthouse that god-awful color.
The memory vanished as quickly as it had come.
Ashley blinked and returned to the present, trying not to look at Carter as he smiled at Tori or notice the glare Gabe shot in Carter’s direction.
It was hard, though. Carter exuded confidence.
Even in a room full of chaos and raised voices, he moved through it all with an ease that made him impossible to ignore.
Like he belonged here in a way she no longer did.
Tiny clapped her hands together as she looked over her efforts. “Enjoy!”
“You’re not going to join us?” Ashley asked.
“Oh no, I have things to do. A book to finish. Besides, this is a family activity.”
“Then why the hell is Carter here?” Gabe asked with a little too much contempt in his tone.
Carter stood, straightening the cuffs of his blazer.
“Because for eight years he’s been the only family I’ve had,” Grandpa spat.
“Someone on your payroll is not family.”
Grandpa slowly pushed back his chair, the legs scraping harshly across the hardwood floor. The room immediately quieted. Even Aunt Marilyn lowered her wineglass.
“You’re right,” Grandpa said coldly. “He is on my payroll, but that doesn’t make him any less family to me.
Carter shifted, clearly uncomfortable. “Bill—”
“No. I’m tired of this nonsense.” He pointed toward Carter.
“That man buried his father and returned to work three days later because he knew this estate needed him. He knew I needed him. He stayed when everyone else walked away from this place. He’s spent the last eight years making sure Winterridge didn’t fall apart while the rest of you were too busy fighting, running away, divorcing, or pretending this family didn’t exist unless money was involved. ”
Gabe’s face paled, the defensiveness draining from his expression. “Grandpa, I didn’t mean—” Gabe started.
“No.” Grandpa’s voice cracked like a whip. “You don’t get to stand in my house and tell me who counts as family. You’ve had an issue with Carter since you were teenagers, and I’m done pretending otherwise.”
Silence engulfed the room in a thick, uncomfortable blanket.
Ashley glanced at Carter. His jaw tightened, eyes fixed somewhere over Grandpa’s shoulder.
The easy confidence from earlier had vanished, and in its place was a boy who was unsure of his place.
As her mind went through the Rolodex of memories, this wasn’t anything new.
Carter always stood a little straighter whenever Gabe walked into the room.
Had she been too wrapped up in Carter to notice Gabe had spent years making Carter feel like he didn’t belong?
Gabe scoffed and leaned back in his chair. “Whatever.”
“Not whatever,” Grandpa snapped again. “You’ve had a chip on your shoulder for too damn long, and I’m sick of it.”
Carter’s eyes briefly flicked toward Gabe in warning.
Most people would have mistaken Gabe’s expression for arrogance, but Ashley knew better.
It wasn’t arrogance—it was stubborn pride.
He inherited it from Grandpa. The two of them were more alike than either would admit, and that was exactly why they clashed.
“Maybe because he forgot his place,” Gabe muttered.
The entire table went still; even Tiny had frozen near the doorway. Carter’s expression hardened, every trace of warmth disappearing from his handsome face. “How can I forget when you remind me every chance you get?”
Ashley opened her mouth, but no words came out. Every instinct told her to stop them, except she didn’t know who deserved defending.
They glared at each other, and the room seemed to shrink around them, the silence pressing against Ashley’s chest.
She’d spent so long believing she’d been the reason Carter walked away. Now, watching the three men unravel in front of her, she wondered how much she’d never seen.
In her heart, Carter belonged with her. But with how Gabe was acting, would Carter ever truly belong in the Wetherby family?
Aunt Marilyn went to grab her wine, her hand smacking the glass and sending it sprawling across the table. Red wine soaked the white tablecloth. Gabe jumped up before it could drip into his lap. Ms. Porter ran over, grabbing napkins and calling over her shoulder for Celia to grab more.
Taylor inched her tray away from the spill, protecting her gingerbread and décor. Tori and Aunt Eleanor both sprang to their feet to offer help.
Ashley looked over to Aunt Marilyn, who gave her a quick wink before downing the little drop of red that was in the bottom of her now empty glass. “Oops.”
“You did that on purpose,” Cole said, pointing an accusatory finger, then laughed.
Marilyn arched her eyebrow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I would never waste a perfectly good cabernet.”
“You practically threw your hand at it,” Uncle Rick said.
“Reflexes aren’t what they used to be, dear brother. I’m sure you know all about that.” She held up her glass. “Gabe, sweetie, be a doll and fix me another.”
Gabe stared at her. “Are you serious right now?”
“Very.”
Ashley bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to laugh as the tension that had held the room hostage just moments ago turned into chaos again. Ms. Porter mumbled under her breath while blotting the tablecloth as Celia ran back with another towel.
Relief loosened the knot in Ashley’s chest, but it was a brief reprieve as her eyes drifted to Carter. He stepped away from the table, one hand braced against a chair. The anger that had hardened his expression earlier had faded slightly, but tension still lingered in the hard line of his jaw.
His gaze met hers, and the chaos ceased to exist as the years of distance between them faded, and she saw that familiar look. The one that once made her heart race at seventeen. No matter how chaotic Winterridge became, his focus always somehow landed on her.
Gabe shoved a glass of wine into Marilyn’s hand. “Congratulations. You avoided another crisis with cabernet.”
“It’s a gift, darling.” Marilyn squeezed Gabe’s hand, smiling before taking a sip. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
Gabe rolled his eyes and returned to his seat, pulling his tray close as Ms. Porter started to remove the tablecloth.
“I have to wash it before it sets now. Celia.” She motioned to the table, and Celia went about replacing the old with a fresh tablecloth. Everyone lifted their trays, and Carter instantly stepped in to help her get the cloth in place.
“Good as new,” Ms. Porter announced. “Now, back to it. The staff is looking forward to judging the final products. May the best Wetherby win!”
She, Celia, and Tiny raced from the room, not that Ashley could blame them. It was only a matter of time before more chaos erupted. But as Ashley picked up the pieces of her gingerbread and started to frost the edges, she got lost in the moment.
Voices died down, and the only sound was the clattering of fingers against the tray of decorations and the clanking of hard candies being retrieved from little bowls.
Ashley placed a green gumdrop at the right side of her door, and pictures of Grandma Lily doing the exact same thing flashed in her mind. With each piece of candy placed on her house, more and more memories flooded back.
It was as if she had locked them away so deep, she was able to completely forget about them. But now, as she sat at the dining room table of Winterridge, surrounded by her entire extended family, she unlocked the door that she had slammed so long ago.
She smiled to herself. Gabe used to steal her gumdrops every year just to make her chase him around the dining room.
Grandpa mumbled about how this wasn’t the Belmont Stakes.
Gabe had claimed she used too many, while secretly slipping the red ones into his own pocket because he knew they were her favorite.
Grandma Lily would eventually catch him, confiscate the candy, and divide it evenly between them.
By bedtime, Gabe always showed up in her room with a handful of red gumdrops, and she would eat them while he read A Night Before Christmas to her.
She glanced at him now. He sat cross-armed with a scowl on his face as if he were being held against his will.
The truth was, no one was keeping him at the table; he was free to leave, but he didn’t want to.
It was obvious in the way he fought a smile when Taylor and Tori both laughed as Taylor’s frosting bag exploded out the back.
Or how his eyes kept drifting to Ashley’s gingerbread progress.
She handed him a bowl of gumdrops. “You’re going to lose if you don’t get started, and we both know how much you hate to lose.”