Page 4 of This Christmas

“Meaning?”

She brushes imaginary lint off my sweater. “Well, being as this will be the first time I’m meeting your family, I want to make things special.”

“Caryn . . .” I drag her name out in warning.

“Don’t worry.” She cups my cheek and smiles, but I see the glint in her eyes. She’s up to something.

“Iamworried. My dad is a simple man. He doesn’t like much.”

“What do you mean?”

I hold my arm, gesturing to the grand space of the living room, which is larger than the home I grew up in. Every square inch of the room is ready for Christmas, including the fifteen-, or was it a twenty-foot tree.

“He wouldn’t know what to think of this,” I tell her. Her parents are extravagant, and I get this is all she knows, but still. There needs to be a limit to some things.

She rises and kisses my cheek. “We can show him.”

Caryn rushes off, leaving me with my thoughts. I don’t know how to tell her or get her to understand that this over-the-top lavish lifestyle we lead isn’t what I grew up with. My parents were, well, my dad still is, the rise-before-the-sun type. They worked hard to put food on the table and never cared about material things, probably because they were always out of reach. I had a good life, but I fear taking Caryn home to Vermont will somehow traumatize her.

Maybe it is better if my dad can come to New York. He could spend a day or two here, meet Caryn and her parents, and then head home. As it is, I doubt I’ll be able to convince him to come for the wedding.

As these thoughts run through my mind, I can only wonder when I stopped being Zane Whitaker of Deer Ridge and became Zane Whitaker, fiancé to socialite Caryn Bamford.

“Shit,” I mutter to the window. I can’t even pinpoint the moment I lost who I was to become who I am.

Going home definitely isn’t the brightest idea I’ve had, but it has to be done. Besides, I want Caryn to experience sugar on snow by the fire, with a hot mug of homemade cocoa. I think she’ll love the closeness of what a small town can bring during the holidays. And it would be good for her to see a tree lighting ceremony with hundreds of people in attendance and not thousands.

I tell myself this will be a good trip, and it’s something we need. Caryn will be able to work on thewedding plans while sitting by the fire, and maybe I’ll be able to convince my dad to finally sell the store and retire.

He’s definitely earned it.

THREE

EVANGELINE

The sound of my radiator hisses and clanks, then fizzles. I snuggle deep under my electric blanket and exhale, sighing heavily at the sight of my breath. At some point in the middle of the night, the heating in my house went out. This isn’t the first time. Nor will it be the last. This is what I get for living above my law practice, thinking it would be smart to save money. But when the old fire station—a one-truck station that served Deer Ridge until the town built a new one—was renovated into office space and a loft, I had to jump at the opportunity to open my practice here. The renovation wasn’t exactly the best and now I’m paying the price.

The radiator makes some more ungodly noises, forcing me to give up on my slumber and face the bitter cold that my loft offers. Thankfully, I had the keen sense of mind to keep a pair of woolen socks next to my bed. Only someone who has experienced brutalmornings would think of something like this. I slip my socks on and then set my feet on my threadbare rug. It’s threadbare by choice because my robot vacuum had trouble going over the thicker rugs I had, and they give my loft a quaint feeling. It’s only during the winter when I wish I had something different.

I make my way into the bathroom and stare briefly at my claw-foot soaking tub. Yep, for all the issues with the heat, the tub more than makes up for it. After relieving myself, I wash up, brush my teeth, and then head to my kitchen, where my already brewed coffee waits for me. Thank the engineers who invented coffee machines with timers. I’d be really cranky if my coffee wasn’t ready when I woke up.

It takes about a half cup until I feel like I can tackle the radiator. I’m hoping the line is just clogged and needs to be drained. If not, I’ll have to call for someone to come look at it. With my mug still in my hand, I walk toward the floor-to-ceiling window that looks out over town. Honestly, this was a selling point. When they did the renovations, they kept the original size of the windows.

A light snow falls, adding to the already covered sidewalk and streets. Across from me, Auggie’s Hardware’s OPEN sign flickers on and the young men who work there start shoveling the snow away from the door. Down the street, Mr. Whitaker is doing the same thing. I frown, watching him. I’m afraid he’s going to hurt himself by lifting the snow. Regardless of how light it seems, it can induce a heart attack. He reallyneeds some help. I make a mental note to stop in at the town office later, hoping they know someone who can help. As a community, we should come together and give the people of Deer Ridge aid, especially during the winter.

As much as I want to stand here and watch the snowfall, getting lost in the majestic beauty of it all, there are things to do. Life calls, starting with a strong need for heat. I take a drink of my coffee and set my mug down even though I’m not a fully functioning caffeinated adult yet.

If I don’t have heat upstairs, then it’s likely the entire building is out. Thankfully, it’s just me working in my office, until my office assistant, Noelle, comes in. I bundle up like a snowman and take the back staircase down to my office where all the important stuff is, like the boiler, electrical box, and whatever else is needed to run this place.

I’m halfway down the stairs when I feel a burst of heat. Part of me sighs in relief, while the rest of me groans because this isn’t as easy as me banging on a few pipes or hitting some reset button.

“Crap on a cracker.” I head back upstairs to check to see if I have hot water and, after holding my hand under the running tap for I don’t know how long, I bring my finger to the brink of hypothermia before giving up and getting dressed. I can take a shower at my parents’ or wait until I’m done working on the farm for the day. It’s not like I’ll meet the man of my dreams today, and if I do, he’ll see me at my worst.

After getting dressed for the day and running a brush through my hair, I pack some extra clothes just in case I don’t come back tonight. It’s one thing to keep your bedroom at a cooler temperature while you sleep. It’s a whole other thing when you don’t have heat in the dead of fall, even if the calendar states that it’s not quite winter yet. Mother nature has other thoughts.

On my way out the door, I pull my phone out and text Noelle.

You don’t have to come in today. We don’t have heat. Take the day and relax or come by the farm and help out.

---