Page 44 of Christmas Charms
“Ashley!” Uncle Hugh pops his head out of the door and waves me inside. “Come on in. We’re just about to get started with the committee meeting.”
He wraps me up in a big bear hug once I’ve crossed the threshold, and as he squeezes me tight, my gaze sweeps over the common area of the firehouse. They’ve put up their Christmas tree since my mom and I delivered the cookies. It stands in the corner, just past the three rows of plush recliners lined up in front of a giant flatscreen TV. In place of a garland, it’s wrapped in yellow tape that says Fire Lane—Do Not Cross. Shiny red ornaments hang from its branches and as always, a firefighter’s helmet serves as the tree topper.
But then my attention snags on a flash of something silver-colored beneath the tree’s thick branches. When Hugh releases me from his embrace, I peer closer at the Christmas tree skirt.
I feel myself frown. “Snow chains?”
Not just any snow chains—thesnow chains. Either I’m imagining things, or the very snow chains Aidan and I quibbled over yesterday are sitting beneath the station’s tree, topped with a shiny red bow.
“Oh, yeah.” Uncle Hugh waves a dismissive hand. “There’s a family living in a cabin deep in the forest and the wife’s expecting a baby. With all the recent snowfall, we’re worried she’s going to go into labor and their car won’t make it as far as the highway, so Aidan picked up some snow chains for them. I’m delivering them this afternoon. We’re going to leave them on the porch, like a Secret Santa sort of thing.”
My throat clogs. “Oh, I had no idea.”
“You didn’t ask,” Aidan says as he strolls into the room. He’s wearing old, faded jeans and a cozy looking, cream-colored cable-knit sweater instead of his typical firefighter gear. But he’s here, even though today is his day off. Does helivein his bunk bed in the sleeping quarters?
“Aidan.” Swallowing is difficult, because my mouth has gone dry. I’m not prepared to see him, particularly not now, when I’ve just learned that he had an actual reason for not handing over the snow chains yesterday—agoodreason.
Major swoon alert. Ugh, I’ve already failed at the most important item on my list of Christmas don’ts.
“Ashley,” Aidan says, and even though he’d be completely in his rights to keep rubbing it in how I’d been so consumed with getting back to Manhattan that I never asked why he wouldn’t give me the snow chains, there’s an underlying softness to his tone. Whatever magic wrapped itself around us last night while we watched the video hasn’t completely gone away. It lingers, like yesterday’s snowfall.
Hugh glances back and forth between us. “Ashley’s here to volunteer for the parade committee.”
“Is that right?” Aidan arches a single skeptical eyebrow. “You know the train station is back up and running, don’t you?”
I nod, clearing my throat. “I’d rather be here.”
His blue eyes twinkle. “Okay, then. I’m more than happy to put you to work.”
Wait. What?
My gaze swivels toward Uncle Hugh. “Aren’t you the parade coordinator?”
“Nope.” He shakes his head. “Aidan is heading up the parade committee this year.”
Of course he is. No wonder my parents pushed me into volunteering. Iseveryonein town trying to push Aidan and me back together?
“Look at the time.” Uncle Hugh pretends to check his watch. He’s not fooling me. Like my dad, he’s always been #TeamAidan. “I’d better get those snow chains delivered. You two have fun now.”
He flashes us a grin, then he grabs the snow chains and heads toward the apparatus bay. I glance around the station in search of other parade committee members, but unless they’re waiting to pop out from behind the recliners, surprise party–style, it’s just Aidan and me.
Alone.
Again.
“Um, where is everyone?” I ask, glancing warily at the farm table. It’s piled high with presents ranging from board games and puzzles to Lego sets and dolls. At least a dozen rolls of wrapping paper are lined up beside the haul.
“Grocery store run,” he says.
That explains the engine’s absence and the lack of other firemen, but surely I’m not the only civilian on the parade committee. “And the other committee members?”
“We don’t meet until tomorrow. Hugh texted me this morning and said we had a new volunteer. He thought if I wasn’t busy, I could come in to get you up to speed and get a jump on some of the gift wrapping.” His lips twitch as if he’s trying his best not to laugh.
“Let me guess—he didn’t tell you the new volunteer was me.”
Aidan nods. “Interestingly enough, he left that part out.”
Our eyes meet, and just like yesterday when we were both lying on the snowy sidewalk outside the auto store, we break into simultaneous laughter. I’m relieved as much as I’m amused. A few days ago, I’m not sure Aidan would have found these silly matchmaking efforts at all humorous. I suppose this is progress.
