A few guests gathered in the foyer behind the host. A couple of reindeer frowned in unison while an ancient Mrs. Claus kept up a Greek chorus of “Oh dear. Oh my,” and an occasional, “Oh no.”
Gavin slid an arm protectively around Rachel’s waist, hating for her to be left standing in the cold for even one more second, but then Kiersten Garrett—dressed in a red “I’m a Christmas Bride” tee—appeared. Her cheeks were as bright as the shirt.
“Rachel and Gavin, I’m so glad you’re both here.” Nudging her father out of the way, she somehow enfolded both of them in her embrace and hauled them inside. In Gavin’s ear, she whispered, “You work the downstairs. I’ll take Rachel with me for a few minutes until things settle down.”
Grateful for an ally, Gavin was prepared to execute his marching orders. Only to realize his arm was still pleasantly wrapped around Rachel’s waist. Where it felt incredibly right.
Forcing himself to loosen his grip, he consoled himself by tipping her chin toward him for a minute. “I’ll see you soon. I’m going to sign us up for a song.”
Her blue eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“It’s about holiday spirit, remember?” He took her coat for her while Kiersten already tugged her toward the staircase in the foyer. “Do you have any favorite you want to request?”
She’d always been an amazing singer, wowing the town with her performances in talent shows and as a featured lead for Yuletide’s earliest tree-lighting ceremonies. Her father had found all sorts of places to put her talent to work, and Gavin had always liked hearing her sing.
“‘Redneck 12 Days of Christmas’ might be fitting,” she called as Kiersten kept up a steady pace along the garland-laden banister.
“Ouch. ‘Blue Christmas’ it is.” He gave her a thumbs-up, prepared to work the room. First on the list was Mrs. Garrett, barreling toward him like an avenging angel in a white gown and a teeter-tottering halo.
He just needed to get through an hour or two of holiday party hell and he could have Rachel all to himself again. The idea was exactly the motivation he needed to force a welcoming smile for the demonic mother of the bride.
Chapter Four
A few minutes later, safely ensconced in the privacy of Kiersten’s bedroom on the second floor, Rachel began to relax a little bit. She sipped the virgin version of the party punch—some kind of cinnamon cranberry wassail-inspired drink—knowing tonight was not the time to let down her guard. For one thing, she was surrounded by resentful elves, apprehensive reindeer and a few mistrustful shepherds. For another, she had the powerful charm of one hot snowboarder already making her daydream about what would happen if she didn’t pull away from his touch.
So…virgin beverages only. Even if the garnish had been a spiky pine tree branch. Was her host certain that wasn’t lethal? Or maybe she was the only guest who’d been given a balsam sprig for a stirring stick. It was Kiersten who’d retrieved the drink for her, though. The one friend she trusted here tonight.
A couple of antihistamine tablets seemed to have her allergy under control for now, and she’d dispensed with the swizzle stick first thing.
“I’m so sorry about what happened downstairs,” the bride-to-be apologized for the third time in as many minutes. She paced in front of her cheval mirror, laden with fresh white poinsettias. Her wedding dress hung on an antique coat rack to one side of the mirror, a tulle and lace fairy-tale gown that would be breathtaking in photos.
Rachel had already raved over the gown, commending design details and admiring the stitch work, but Kiersten hadn’t been easily sidetracked from her misplaced guilt about the awkward reception at the front door.
“Please don’t think any more about it.” Setting aside the punch on a window ledge overlooking the backyard peopled with friendly blow-up snowmen decorations, Rachel intercepted the bride to halt her pacing. “I’m here to see dresses, remember? Gavin’s going to smooth things over downstairs—” or at least make the crowd less murderous “—and everything will be fine.”
Kiersten met her gaze. Her green crepe sheath dress was a simple, festive choice. No costume needed. “Luke will help him.”
“Perfect.” Rachel couldn’t help a fresh bout of nerves at the thought of seeing him again. Both Gavin and Kiersten assured her he hadn’t held a grudge over their unhappy parting, but Rachel felt more wary seeing him than anyone else. “I didn’t see him when we came in.”
“He must have been in the game room entertaining the younger guests.” Her eyes sparkled with a happy light that seemed infectious in brides. “He was leading the kids in a round of Pin the Nose on Rudolph.”
The bedroom door burst open before Rachel could reply and a pretty brunette stood framed in the archway, her shapeless Grinch costume and slumped posture taking away from her natural attractiveness.
“Is it true she’s back?” the newcomer blurted a second before her eyes skipped to Rachel. Her green Grinchy hat slid sideways on her dark hair as she reared back a step. “It really is you.”
Rachel didn’t recognize the young woman, but she sure understood the tone of her voice implying Rachel wasn’t welcome.
“Hi,” she replied simply. “Have we met?”
By Kiersten’s sharp intake of breath she gathered that wasn’t a cool question. The other woman glared at her.
“Emma Harris.” She stressed her well-known last name. “You were my personal idol before you spurned my brother publicly.”
As soon as she said her name, she could see the ten-year-old girl Emma had been within the heavier features of her grown-up self. She’d been a quiet, unhappy-seeming little girl, but Rachel had enjoyed getting to know her while she’d dated Luke. They’d read stories together and Emma had impressed her at her reading choices—a clever kid so smart that she found it tough to make friends her own age. Her mother had traveled a lot, frequently leaving both her kids alone. The lack of attention hadn’t bothered Luke, but it had hurt Emma.
Not wanting to alienate someone she’d genuinely liked, Rachel took cautious step closer.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Emma.” They’d read Anne of Green Gables together and Emma had been off and running down a path of reading that went on for months afterward. “I didn’t mean to let anyone down. And you were an idol for me in your own way.”
The teen scowled openly while the sounds of the party drifted up through the open door behind her. An older man who really knew how to rock it was singing “Holly Jolly Christmas.”
“You don’t have to invent things to try and make amends.” She glared harder in the way only a sullen teen could. “I know I was just Luke’s dopey kid sister to you.”
“That’s not even close to true.” Rachel ventured closer still. Close enough to see the checkerboards painted on Emma’s fingernails where she folded her arms across her chest. “I always thought it was cool that you had a fearless ability to speak your mind, just like Anne Shirley.”