Maggie K. Black - Christmas Blackout

Or a relationship. Or a family. Or emotional complications of any kind.

He’d told her so that last night on the island. It didn’t matter what kind of fireworks that man set off inside her chest, Benjamin couldn’t even commit to a dog.

They rounded the corner and Piper gasped—his truck was a mess of scrunched metal and broken glass . “I thought you said everything was okay.”

The chimney had a huge chunk missing from one side. Bricks dented the hood of his large black pickup. Yes, she’d heard the sound of a collision. But he’d been so reassuring she’d just trusted him when he told her everything was okay.

“The truck will be fine,” he said. “A new side panel and a fresh windshield and it’ll be good to go. I’m really sorry about the chimney. Hopefully it’s nothing a good masonry job won’t fix. I’d offer to do it myself if it wasn’t knee-deep in snow and I didn’t have places to be. I just hope it won’t be a problem for your Christmas Eve shindig.”

“It’s more than a shindig.” She took a deep breath and reminded herself that none of this was Benjamin’s fault, and that he was even more inconvenienced than she was. “It’s called Christmas Eve at The Downs. The purpose is to provide a really awesome potluck dinner and carol singing for people in the community who have nowhere else to go. Aunt Cass started it twenty-five years ago. This is the first year I’m managing it on my own. The barn’s really old and I really should have gotten a new roof put on it this year. But the priority has been saving up to renovate the bed-and-breakfast.”

The sooner she could get Uncle Des and Aunt Cass out of that awful seniors’ residence the better.

“ Torchlight News did a big article on your renovation plans, right?” Benjamin asked. “Because your house was declared a heritage site of historical value, you needed to apply to get special permission?” He brushed the glass off the driver’s seat and climbed in.

“Yup. The Downs is over a hundred years old. We’re pretty isolated, so there are rumors that during American Prohibition, people used to sneak across the lake and fill their boats up with bottles of illegal rum out of this very barn. Some even say there was a full-fledged speakeasy lounge with drinks and music running in The Downs. All these people would supposedly boat across the lake and sneak up through our woods in their finest evening wear. But no one’s ever found any evidence. Not even so much as an empty rum bottle or lost earring in the trees. Trust me, I looked.”

As a little girl she’d combed The Downs for some hidden stash of jewelry or money. As an adult, she’d be happy to just see The Downs increase in value enough they could get a loan to cover renovations.

Benjamin pulled the truck back. The corner of the hood was crumpled and the whole right side was dented. But still the engine ran smoothly and the air bag hadn’t deployed.

“We’ve got a really good mechanic here in town,” she said. “He’ll be able to get you fixed up in no time.”

He ran one hand through his dark mop of hair. “There’s a wedding rehearsal tomorrow afternoon and I’m also supposed to be fitted for a tuxedo. But I can’t exactly drive without a windshield.”

Before she could respond, she saw a shadow move through the distant trees. A shiver ran down her spine. Was someone watching them? But when she looked again, it was gone. Which probably meant her imagination was now playing tricks on her.

“Well, looks like I’m not going anywhere fast.” Benjamin yanked a vintage red hockey bag out of the backseat. “You got room at The Downs for one more?”

THREE

To his surprise, Piper blinked. Her hand rose to her lips as if his question had somehow caught her off guard. “Oh. Sure. Of course. I’ve only got three guests staying right now. I can definitely house one more.”

Okay, and what was he missing now? It had seemed like a pretty straightforward thing to ask. After all, she ran a bed-and-breakfast, and it was unlikely a mechanic would get him back on the road before morning. He turned off the truck and climbed out. “Well, as long as it’s no problem and won’t cause you any extra trouble.”

“No, no trouble at all.” She wasn’t meeting his eye. “It’s the least I can do, considering you probably saved my life.”

Alrighty, then. Benjamin yanked a tarp out of the backseat and began tying it down over the missing windshield to keep the worst of the snow out. Truth be told, he’d feel a whole lot better staying close by in case Kodiak was still lurking around. Something told him that memory of Piper down in the snow with a bag over her head would haunt his nightmares for a long time. There was a tug on the tarp. He looked up. Piper had grabbed the other side and was tying it down on the passenger side.

Her eyes cut to the National Hockey League team logo on his bag. A smile curved on her lips. “You’re just lucky you saved my life before I remembered you supported our hockey rivals in Montreal.”

He chuckled. Yeah, he hadn’t forgotten just how passionate she was about cheering on Toronto. “Well, as long as you don’t high stick me, I promise to leave all conversations about Stanley Cup history at the door.”

She rolled her eyes. They started up the steep, narrow path through the trees. Harry ran beside them for a while then disappeared on ahead. Benjamin tried to hitch his duffel bag higher on his shoulder and just barely managed to keep from knocking into her.

“That’s a pretty big bag for visiting a few friends,” she said. “I thought you believed in traveling light.”

“I do.” He swung it around to the other shoulder. “Actually, this is everything I’m taking with me to Australia. Passport, airline ticket, travel money—if it’s crossing the world with me, it’s in here.”

The sun had set behind the snow. Motion sensor lights wound through the trees ahead of them, flickering on as they neared. He reached the top of the hill and looked out. Snow-covered trees flowed down the slope behind them, spreading all the way out over the lake. It was breathtaking.

“On a clearer day, you can see the American shoreline,” Piper said. “Uncle Des and Aunt Cass married in the south of England. He had what he thought was a temporary job at a company in Niagara and they moved out here. Aunt Cass named The Downs after the South Downs, this range of hills near the village she’s from. They got the property in a foreclosure sale actually. Took them years to sort through all the junk the previous owners left behind.”

“But sadly no illegal rum in the cellar or stacks of secret cash in the wardrobe?”

She shook her head. “Nope.”

He turned toward the house. The Downs was three stories tall, with lead piping on the windows, peaked roofs and shuttered doors opening onto small balconies. Christmas lights wrapped around the windows and balconies, and looped around the fire escape that ran all the way from the ground floor to a round window high in the roof peak. “So this would be your fairy-tale castle?”

She stopped walking. “What did you just say?”

“I seem to remember you telling me that you were born in England, too, but that you and your mom moved here to live when you were really little. So, you used to pretend you were secretly an English princess and The Downs was your castle.”

She paused for a moment then shook her head. “I can’t believe I told you that.”

If anything, she sounded disappointed with herself. But why? They’d talked for hours during those four days last summer. She’d told him all sorts of things about herself. He in turn had confessed stuff about himself that nobody else knew. Like how he’d decided he was never going to have a wife or family.