The Mills & Boon Christmas Wishes Collection. Maisey Yates
and gave me a loose hug. “Merry Christmas, Clio.”
“Merry Christmas!” I slowly unwrapped the gift, letting out a gasp when I saw it. “How did you find this?”
“A lot of digging,” he said. “Do you like it?”
It was a sketch of Cedarwood from its heyday. It was exquisite, the pencil strokes a touch blurred with age, the paper browned at the edges, but framed in a gorgeous antique frame that would protect it for the next fifty years.
“Kai, I can’t believe this, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Look at the lodge!”
I peered closely to make out every minuscule detail. Nothing had changed, from the gable on the roof right down to the balustrades on the porch. It was all the same as now, except the windows were bracketed by heavy brocade curtains, and now we had sheer window treatments. And on the porch was a rocking horse, fit for a small child… Again I had that sense I was being watched, that someone stood just behind me. My skin prickled.
Before I could ponder it any more, Amory click-clacked her way into the room and said, “You’re exchanging presents? Oh Clio, that is utterly divine! Mine are under the tree in the salon – I’ll be right back. But we’re not opening them until after dinner, because yours might involve a drinking game…” She clapped a hand to her mouth. “Forget I said that.”
Micah wandered in wearing a fuchsia-pink Christmas hat. “She made me,” he said, laughing. Isla wore the same but in green. “And we’ve got our ugliest Christmas sweaters on, in honor of our first Christmas at Cedarwood.”
They were ugly. Matching sweaters with a reindeer flashing uneven, eggshell-colored teeth – more like a bad-tempered donkey braying. Still, Christmas just wasn’t Christmas without an ugly sweater. “Delightfully ugly,” I laughed.
Cruz put a plate of cheeses, green olives and rosy-red cherry tomatoes on the table, all lined up in the shape of a Christmas tree. “Cute!” I said, loving that he was so festive with his food.
“Wait,” he said. “I also made something else.”
He came back a few minutes later carrying the most exquisite gingerbread house. It had candy-cane pillars, and a white-iced snowy roof; the windows were open and inside sat teddy bear biscuits, warming themselves near an open marshmallow fire. Trees were made from tempered chocolate and dusted white with icing sugar. Green candyfloss made up a Christmas tree decorated with star-shaped candy. “Wow, Cruz, did you make this from scratch?” The spicy scent of ginger permeated the air.
“Amory helped,” he said.
We burst out laughing, knowing she would have hindered more than helped, just as I would have. Our skills were not culinary, that was for sure. But still, my mind spun with ideas for the future: cooking classes he could do with our guests, and perhaps even a little giftshop of our own where we sold handmade biscuits and treats like these.
Micah added a log to the fire, sending little bursts of fireworks up the flue.
While we munched on the nibbles Cruz had made I drifted away, thinking of Mom and Aunt Bessie. My aunt had politely refused my invitation for Christmas Eve dinner – insisting us ‘young people’ spend it together, because we were having a gathering at hers tomorrow.
We went to take our places at the table, but not before I saw Kai standing innocently under the mistletoe. In the spirit of Christmas I pushed my chair back and dashed over to him, landing a big, loud kiss on his cheek. His eyes widened, and I pointed up. “Just following tradition,” I said.
Amory winked at me. “Yeah, and she put mistletoe under every doorway just in case.”
I laughed. “You’re just jealous I didn’t kiss you.”
“Yes,” she said. “I am. There’s always next year.”
“Shall we toast?” I asked, grabbing my champagne flute from the table, bubbles dancing like stars. My friends gathered around, each wearing a wide smile, relaxed and happy right here at Cedarwood Lodge. “Thank you for all of your help at Cedarwood. Without you I’d be a bumbling, incoherent mess. Here’s to love, laughter, and good friends.”
We clinked glasses, everyone letting out a cheer. Outside, night fell, and snow blanketed the ground.
Amory said, “Hear, hear. And on behalf of all of us, I’d like to say, you would never be a bumbling, incoherent mess, because that’s just not your style, but we appreciate you taking us into your home and your heart this Christmas, and we look forward to making next year huge for Cedarwood. It’s going to be amazing, and we’re lucky to be part of it.”
Over dinner, we laughed so much we cried, eating too much turkey and crispy roast potatoes. Cruz had gone all out on dinner, with all the trimmings… from honey-glazed ham to fragrant pecan and cranberry stuffing, and freshly baked bread rolls. We practically rolled out of the room, and groaned when he wandered in with a chocolate Yule log big enough to feed a small army.
“Maybe we should have a little break?” he said, taking in our satiated faces, and the way we rubbed our too-full bellies.
“Let’s go sit in front of the TV,” Amory said. “The Times Square Christmas carols are on, and I don’t care what anyone says, I love watching them.” Cruz raised a brow but took Amory’s hand and led her down to the theater room.
Isla pulled Micah by the elbow. “Come with me? I want you to help me with something,” she said mysteriously.
That left me and Kai, staring at each other over the table.
“Let’s get some fresh air?” Kai said, pointing to the deck outside. I grabbed his gift from under the tree.
Stars glittered in the inky night, and the moonlight winked as if urging me on. It was déjà vu, but I wanted one minute alone with him before we were around other people for the duration of the night.
I handed him his gift, and held my breath.
He opened the gift box and took out the small album. Inside it were pictures of his time at Cedarwood, candid snaps when he wasn’t aware I was there – iPhone at the ready. There were pictures of the team he’d led, arms wrapped around each other, big, goofy grins in place, and Kai in the foreground, eyes luminous, sparkling with the joy he’d found here. There were before and after photos of the lodge, and the improvements he’d suggested were right there in Technicolor. In the middle of the album I’d placed a handwritten note:
You said this place is magical, and I think you’re right. There are so many adventures to be had here, and so much time in which to have them. You might feel adrift in the world right now, but we’ll always be here for you, me and Cedarwood Lodge. If you need a place to get lost, a mountain to climb, a friend to talk to, a lake to swim in so all you hear is the tumble of water and not the heavy thoughts that are holding you down, then you know where to come. As you can see by the photographs, you belong here, like the trees, the mountains, and the rain. Always know that when you leave, we’ll be counting down the days until we can welcome you back, home.
He worked his jaw as he read the message. Was it too much, too whimsical? I wanted Kai to have a tangible record of his time here, and photographic proof of the great work he’d done. It wasn’t just your average renovation. It was restoring the past, and living for the present.
“Do you really mean that, Clio?”
“Every word.”
He nodded and flicked through the album, smiling when he came to a picture of us toasting marshmallows, pulling silly faces. And then again when Micah was doing bunny ears behind his head as Kai surveyed building plans, resolute expression in place.
The last photo was my favorite. It had been taken by Micah when I was oblivious and was of me and Kai, sitting by the lake, bundled in blankets. Our faces were only inches apart…as if we might be about to kiss.
“Clio, I…” He stopped, his eyes ablaze, with what