Three Nights before Christmas (22 page)

“Where are you going?”

“To pack my stuff.”

He scrambled after her, stumbling over the coffee table in his hastiness to touch her, hold her, reassure her. Pain shot through his foot, and he cursed. “Lace—”

She spun on him. “I knew it would all come back up. It was stupid to think this wouldn’t come between us.
Criminally stupid
.” She bit the words out. They had a haunting familiarity, but he couldn’t figure out why until she said, “That’s what you called me. Remember? In front of everyone. It’s on record for all time. Anyone who’s ever interested in my trial will see it in official black and white. Lacey Gallagher—criminally stupid.”

Heat flooded his cheeks, the fiery lick of shame. “I didn’t know you then. Not like I do now.”

“You knew enough to form an opinion. And you know what? You were right. I
was
criminally stupid. And apparently I didn’t learn my lesson because I’ve been ignoring the signs again. I shouldn’t be with you, Austin.” She tapped her fist against her chest, her voice thickening. “There’s too much old crap here. And here,” she said, motioning to the space between them.

He reached for her again, but she backed away. “Please don’t,” he pleaded.

She shook her head, her cheeks caving inward as she apparently bit them. Backing toward the bedroom, she whispered, “I have to. I can’t go through this again. I need space to figure things out on my own.” Letting out a shaky, heartbroken breath that broke his own, she said, “I fixed a hell of a lot of clogged toilets in prison, so I can tell you that shit always floats to the surface eventually, Austin. Doesn’t matter how hard you try to flush it away. It was just a matter of time.”

He refused to believe that, refused to give up hope. “We can work through this.”

Her eyes filled, and she stopped bothering to hide her hurt. Voice trembling, she shook her head. “I’m tired of trying to work through things. So fucking tired. Please…if you care anything about me…just give me some space. I need space.”

The distance between them grew, even though neither of them moved. He wanted her so badly. Wanted to comfort her, hold her, reassure himself that they could work through this and come out the other side invincible.

But his only chance of getting there was to step away. It cost him everything, but he gave her a terse nod. “Don’t pack your things. I’ll pack mine and stay at my house in town.” A million thoughts crowded his mind at once, and one popped out. “If you need rides to work—”

“I’ll call a taxi.” Her nostrils twitched, and she sniffled. “I meant what I said earlier, Austin. Thank you… for including me. It—” She sucked in a pained breath before choking out, “It made a difference.”

And then she spun and rushed down the hall to the safety of his bedroom, closing the door behind her.

‡

T
he winter sun
shone brightly in a clear blue sky, casting rays of blinding light off the snow surrounding the few remaining trees on the farm. Christmas would be here in three days, and today would be the farm’s last day of sales. They probably wouldn’t even have enough stock to make it past sunset—but it didn’t matter. The crowds had thinned as Christmas drew nearer, but not a single cut tree would go to waste. Sawyer had planned well, and Lacey had done her best to make sure she did his work justice.

As she finished her morning stock take and held a brief meeting with the staff, she gave them her warmest smile, praying it looked genuine. They didn’t need to know how hard it was to fake. “Last but not least, I want to give you all your Christmas bonuses.”

They beamed and jostled each other as she handed out envelopes of cash and boxes of her favorite molasses cookies, which she’d stayed up late last night to bake. Sleep hadn’t come easily these past five nights. Since Santa’s Wonderland had gotten underway up on the mountain, Lucinda had chugged past Lacey’s bedroom window every hour. Excited passengers lined up in the annex—still brightly decorated and pumping with Christmas carols throughout the evenings—before clomping onto the station house’s back porch, which was reliving its original purpose of being a train platform.

Knowing Austin was so close, either shoveling coal in Lucinda’s firebox or welcoming passengers aboard, just about killed her.

“Lacey?”

She blinked, the sea of faces becoming clear again. She gave them a chagrined smile and tried to shake away her melancholia. “Sorry. Faded away for a second there. Everyone ready to go? Great! Henry, you can open the gate. Let’s sell these puppies.”

They all sprang away to their respective stations, obviously eager to finish up work and start their holidays. When she turned to light the fire barrels, she saw Sawyer sitting on the front porch swing with his casted leg propped on a chair.

Hoo boy.
She hadn’t actually seen him since their fight. She’d feigned busyness, but she simply hadn’t had the strength to confront him. She’d kept him up to date with the daily takings and the biggest decisions she’d made, but she’d done it all via text. After several days of only brief messages, this morning he’d asked if she would make a trip into town and bring home a few special ingredients. Whiskey. Chocolate. Lamb chops. Fresh rosemary. Lemons. Red wine. She’d stashed them in the hall before starting work.

She bit back a wry smile as she walked up the porch steps. “I take it things are going well with Jenna.”

He didn’t answer, but a slow flush climbed his cheeks and she threw her hands in the air. “Should I go get the blender?”

He gave her a warning scowl, but there was nothing he could do about his deepening blush. “Don’t make a big deal out of it. I just wanted to cook Jenna a nice meal.”

Oh my God, my brother and my lawyer!
She couldn’t resist. “Because you’re into her. Just admit it.”

“I’m not admitting anything.”

“You don’t need to. It’s as obvious as the nose on Rudolph’s face.”

“Nice Christmas reference,” he said with a wry smile.

“Thanks.” She grinned and sat on the swing next to him, since his foot occupied the only chair. She tried to keep the swing from swaying much, but he still grimaced.

“Sorry,” she said.

“Barely felt it.”

She rolled her eyes. Same old Sawyer.

“And how are things with Officer Wilder?” he asked, and her amusement died a thousand deaths.

“They’re—” She debated with herself for a second.
Oh, fuck it.
“They’re not going well.”

He stiffened, going quiet as if he were trying to figure out whether to butt in. Apparently he decided to let her decide. “Do I need to kick his ass? I still have one good leg, you know. And this cast could probably do some damage.”

Her big brother, an incurable problem solver. And maybe, sometimes, that wasn’t so bad—as long as he didn’t get carried away. Unable to help herself, she leaned against his side, and he slung his arm around her shoulder as naturally as he had fifteen years ago, when she’d suffered her first broken heart and he’d made his first offer to kick a guy’s ass. “You’re not so bad, you know,” she said.

“I know,” he replied confidently.

She chuckled and rested her head against his shoulder. “How’s Jenna feeling, really?”

“Pretty good. She got some antivirals that cut the grossness short.”

Shocked, Lacey leaned back to look at him. “You mean I could’ve come home before now?”

“Nah, she’s still contagious. Just not scabby.” He grinned. “Miracle drugs—they make her feel better but still keep you away.”

She made a disgusted noise at the back of her throat, trying to mask the hope and happiness she felt for him. “I can’t believe you put your love life over my comfort.”

“I don’t have a love life,” he said. “Anyway, I figured you were getting pretty comfortable yourself.”

Sighing, she rubbed at her tight, throbbing temple. “And this is why we shouldn’t go without speaking. Austin and I…” She tried to think of how to express it, but heartbreak didn’t translate well into language. “We aren’t a good idea.”

“You’re so full of bullshit, munchkin.”

She pulled away, making the swing rock.

Sawyer sucked in a pained breath. “Careful there.”

“Sorry,” she said. “I’m not full of bullshit.”

“You are. Look, I’ll admit I was pissed when I found out about you and Wilder, but I’ve had time to think about it. Even when I didn’t know who you were doing the dirty with, I could tell things were changing for you in here.” He tapped her forehead. “And there.” He pointed at the vicinity of her heart. “I hadn’t seen you happy in a long-ass time. I was a little jealous, to be honest.”

She grabbed his hand, making him look a little uncomfortable, but she didn’t care. “Really?”

He shrugged off the question. “Maybe. You deserve happiness, you know. Yeah, you trusted the wrong person once, but you paid a stupidly heavy price for it. I’ll be really annoyed if you keep paying that price for no good reason.”

She picked some lint off her release-day jeans. They were grease stained, ripped and repaired with duct tape. She’d had to cinch her belt so tightly they had unintentional pleats.

They no longer fit her.

“Do you really think you and forest boy aren’t a good idea?”

“He has to testify against me, Sawyer. What do you think?”

His brows drew together. “You sure he’s going to do that?”

She tried to shrug, as if it didn’t matter, but the truth made her voice crack. “It’s his job.”

“Well, then, he’s an idiot, and you’re better off without him.”

She bit her lip and nodded. “Thanks for the pep talk.”

“Anytime.” He patted her leg. “If you want to come home, you’re always welcome. Just not tonight.”

She nudged his knee with hers. “Finally, he admits it. I’ll stay at the station house, then. And I’ll crank up the Christmas music really loud, just in case.”

‡

T
hey sold all
the trees even earlier than Lacey had anticipated. The sun was just setting as she walked out to the road and flipped the sign at the farm’s entrance to Closed. She’d already called for her ride, a retired cop who padded out his social security by running a one-man taxi service. Joe pulled up just as she finished. He got out and opened the door of his SUV for her, giving her a warm smile. “Evening, Lacey. Did you sell them all?”

“Sure did.” She climbed in, and he closed the door, rounding the hood to hoist his heavy frame into the driver’s seat. He’d given her a ride morning and night since Austin had left. In that time, she’d gone from being called
Miss Gallagher
in a cop’s ever-suspicious tone of voice to being
Lacey
.

The quick defrosting of their relationship made her all warm inside.

“I saved you something,” she said, handing him a small, wrapped package before he put the SUV in gear.

Surprise flickered across his face. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I’m probably moving back home tomorrow morning, so I wanted to get you a little something to thank you for the last few days.”

“Lacey, you pay me. That’s thank-you enough.”

She smiled. “I know, but you made the rides nice, and I appreciate that.”

It was more than that, and they both knew it. After the first day, he’d stopped treating her like a parolee and started treating her like a person. She’d needed it, especially now, when she still felt raw and lonely.

“In that case, can I open it now?”

“Sure.” She waited as he carefully slipped his finger under the tape and opened the wrapping. A circular, flat ornament lay in his palm, one of the hand-carved wooden ones that hung from branches like medallions. With intricate detail, the craftswoman had whittled out a delicate star within a star within a star. Each one stayed connected to the ornament with a transparent plastic thread, allowing them to spin freely in the air. “It kind of reminded me of a sheriff’s badge—but much nicer to be confronted with.”

He chuckled. “I love it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He drove her back to the station house and kept up a steady stream of chitchat. She found herself responding with an ease that would’ve seemed unthinkable a month earlier. Slowly, day-by-day, she earned back parts of herself that she’d lost over the years. Slowly, she felt human again.