“You do? Because while Jingle might be a snowboarder, I think the gift shop could have all kinds of winter sports equipment—sleds, skates, snowshoes, whatever.” She paused and turned toward him. “You could have a flat screen on one wall with footage from your competitions. A loop of video to let kids see how fun it is to snowboard. Maybe throw in some goofy outtakes of you on a skateboard or snow shoes, too.”
“Can’t do that.” He was curious about where she would have gone with that idea, but he hated to get excited about something that wasn’t allowed in the store. “The town wants all the buildings to be electronics-free zones. To emphasize family time or something.”
She glanced at him, their elbows brushing. “I’m sure they just don’t want kids on their phones—”
“No. They nixed someone else’s request to install an interactive electronic game.” He’d been at that meeting to try and sway the board about his charity event and ended up sitting through a vote on the electronics issue.
“Well that’s antiquated.” Frowning, she continued walking, but seemed preoccupied until she blurted. “You could make some real changes around here if you were mayor.”
“In all of my spare time?” He laughed, knowing he’d lose his spot on the men’s snowboard team if he did that. “But thank you for your faith in me. Maybe once the mountain gets the better of me, I’ll consider it.”
“Don’t say that.” Clutching his arm for a moment, she squeezed it briefly. “That won’t happen. You’ll retire when you’ve accomplished everything you want to. The mountain has no say in it.”
He wanted her to keep touching him, still regretting that missed opportunity back at the ice rink. But now, he shoved open the gates to the park, leading her past the playground with the slide that held his best and worst memories of their time together. He noticed her gaze dart toward it too.
Take it slow, he reminded himself.
This wasn’t a race down the slope with his team. The payoff had the potential to be a lot bigger than any medal.
Guiding her toward the carousel, he took her hand to steady her over an icy patch on the sidewalk where it curved uphill. Afterward, he didn’t let go and neither did she, his leather glove enveloping her red mitten.
When they reached the courtyard around the carousel, he watched her expression, waiting for her reaction while the painted reindeer went around and around. The deer pulled Santa’s sleigh, the biggest feature of the ride, and a comfortable spot for older visitors or families with small children to enjoy the attraction.
“Wow.” Rachel shook her head for a moment before turning to look at him, sadness plain in her eyes. “My mom told me that they were letting some of the original installments fall into disrepair, but I had no idea things had gotten this bad.”
She referred to the peeling and chipped paint, of course. Elsewhere the forest greens and crimson reds had faded to shades of mint and pink. Rudolph’s nose had stopped lighting up long ago. Even Santa had suffered, his hat broken off at the end and his capacity for sound broken. The carousel still worked, but it looked worse for the wear.
“I think the town council is just waiting to declare it broken beyond repair so they can take it down.” Gavin found the sight a little more disheartening each time he walked past.
“This is a piece of town history. Our first real Christmas attraction.” Her forehead wrinkled in confusion for a moment before it cleared again. Understanding lit her blue gaze. “Because it was my father’s first real achievement in turning this place around. They want to erase his mark on Yuletide.”
That had been his thought as well. But he’d already made his case about wanting her to take a role in the community again. He didn’t want to overplay his hand. And, bottom line, it was up to her how much this place meant to her.
Or didn’t.
Maybe a wiser man would have brought her to any one of a hundred more romantic places around town to try and win that kiss he wanted. Badly. Because he could tell that seeing this piece of her childhood so broken and neglected was hurting her, and it saddened him to know he’d helped put that disillusionment in her eyes. But the more time he spent with Rachel the more he realized he wasn’t just angling for kisses.
He wanted more.
The knowledge rocked him. No matter how much he liked her personally and thought she possessed the same creative vision for the town that her father had always shown, Gavin knew that similarity also made the locals all the more resistant to her return. Because Yuletide wasn’t exactly rushing to embrace her. Just bringing her to a pre-wedding party had nearly gotten him kicked out of the Garrett home the night before. A full-fledged relationship could create enough backlash to drive any of his local start-up ventures into the ground.
Besides, he needed to be thinking about his career and what was most likely his last opportunity to stand on a podium. He’d worked too hard chasing his dream to take his eye off the prize now.
Remembering that around Rachel Chambers, however, wasn’t going to be easy.
*
Rachel had expected her hometown to resent her father.
They had every right to hate him for embezzling their start-up fund for a new Santa’s workshop. It hadn’t been a fortune, but for a small town full of people struggling to make ends meet, it had been significant enough. And, bottom line, even if he’d stolen five bucks, it was stealing and that was wrong. She had never tried to defend his actions.
But for the town to spite him so much they would deliberately allow a cornerstone of the community to deteriorate this way? The carousel was a beautiful piece of Yuletide’s heritage, a project that had represented a big turning point in making the vision of a “holiday town” into reality. Her father had found the old carousel online and traveled all the way to a New Jersey beach town to retrieve it. He’d rented the flatbed trailer himself to haul it in pieces and worked tireless hours figuring out how to reassemble the merry-go-round.
He’d traded hours of his time and expertise—he was a home builder—putting up a garage for a local art teacher who had given her time to remodel giraffes and horses into reindeer. Finally, her dad had coerced his wife into helping him host parties on this very site to entice community members to come out and help paint every inch of the intricately decorated structure. Instead of a barn-building party, there had been a carousel-painting get-together every weekend for a whole summer. Paint some ivy and holly—get a hotdog. Virtually everyone in town had a hand in the project before the inaugural ride.
“Should we keep walking?” Gavin asked, his hand squeezing hers gently.
Despite her sadness, his touch warmed her, fanning the small flame inside her that had started flickering to life back at the skating rink. She had known spending time with him would be dangerous to her peace of mind, but she hadn’t expected him to stir so many emotions beyond their obvious chemistry.
“I’d like that.” She nodded, her voice a husky whisper. “I don’t think I’ll be visiting the carousel again anytime soon.”