Julianna Morris - Christmas With Carlie

He gave her a hug. “Anything I can do to help?”

“I’m okay, just feeling sorry for myself. It’s an unattractive habit I’m trying to break.”

Uncle Liam was less depressed now, but the family tried to keep things upbeat around him. He left managing Poppy Gold to Tessa, though he still looked after the maintenance department, while Tessa’s husband had taken over the security division.

Thinking about it reminded Carlie that she ought to give her cousin a heads-up about Luke Forrester. As the Poppy Gold owner-manager, she needed to know what was going on. So instead of going straight back to Old City Hall, Carlie stopped at Tessa’s office in the train depot and found her cuddling little Meredith.

Carlie’s throat ached. She was thirty-one, only a year younger than Tessa, and had hoped to be a mother herself by now. And she might be if Derek had been the man she’d thought.

Instead, the morning they were supposed to get married he’d told her it was a mistake. Yeah, a mistake...he’d asked another woman to marry him. Incredibly, he seemed to think it wasn’t cheating since he’d decided to call off the wedding before sleeping with someone else. Or at least that was what he’d claimed.

She wasn’t convinced. In the cold light of reason, Carlie suspected he’d seen an opportunity to marry into money and had taken it.

So instead of being a wife and mother, she was an honorary aunt to the younger members of the family. She’d have to be content with that for now, because she wasn’t ready to let her heart get shredded again.

Tessa looked up. “Hey, you look frustrated.”

Carlie determinedly pushed Derek out of her mind. He hadn’t been a part of her life for more than a year and didn’t warrant the kind of energy she was spending on him. Perhaps it was on her mind, seeing how happy Tessa was with her husband. Gabe McKinley seemed to be Tessa’s opposite in every respect, but the way he looked at her and his new daughter...

“Carlie?” Tessa prompted.

“Sorry, my brain was somewhere else. I just wanted to give you a heads-up. Luke Forrester isn’t particularly happy. Apparently he believed his family would have the entire John Muir Cottage. He also wants a full office installed in the Yosemite suite, including satellite communications.”

Tessa blinked. “He couldn’t have been serious.”

“Noooo, he was quite serious. He plans to run his conglomerate from Poppy Gold while staying here. Anyway, I told him about the facilities we do have and that he’s welcome to use loaner equipment.”

“We don’t expect anybody to take abuse from a guest,” Tessa said quietly. “No matter what their circumstances.”

Carlie shook her head. “He’s just demanding and his daughters almost make up for him being difficult. They’re adorable. I just wanted you to know since there’s a good chance he won’t be satisfied, whatever we do.”

“Don’t lose any sleep over it. Maybe Poppy Gold will work its magic on him.”

“I hope the magic works fast.”

They chatted for another few minutes before Carlie got up and said goodbye.

On the walk to her office, she called her parents, who expected her for dinner with her two brothers, home visiting from college over the Thanksgiving break. Between everything she had left to do and attending the snowmaking event with the Forresters later, she wouldn’t be able to eat with them.

“I’ll send Quinn or Russ over with something for you to eat,” Mom offered instantly. When Leah Benton couldn’t do anything to fix a problem, she fed people.

“No need. I have stuff in the office fridge and ate too much at lunch, anyhow. How is Dad? I wish he hadn’t worked today.”

“You know...the usual.”

Yeah, Carlie knew.

Her father pretended everything was fine, but standing for so many hours as a traffic flagger made his chronic pain that much worse. He didn’t have to work—the settlement from the accident was enough to cover lost wages—but Mike Benton refused to take things easy. To his way of thinking, men worked to support their families. They didn’t live on insurance settlements.

“Okay, Mom. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Carlie got off and hurried up the Old City Hall’s front steps. Inside to the left was a broad, curving staircase that rose to an open, semicircular gallery in front of the ballroom. On the right, there was a pair of elaborate double doors set with an intricate pattern of sparkling beveled glass. They were a striking entryway into the guest reception area and original to the building, which made them even better. She waved at Bill and Christine through the clear oval center and headed through the rotunda.

Quickly she packed a spare computer from the storeroom into a box, along with a multifunction printer. Then she printed out the list of local tutors. Next to Luisa Cabrera’s name she wrote that Luisa had taught first grade for thirty-five years.

“Tim, would you take this to the Yosemite suite for me?” she asked, putting the list into an envelope.

“No problem.”

She sealed the envelope and then accessed her voice mail. There was only one message. It was from Luke Forrester and what he said practically knocked her to the floor.

“Ms. Benton, it’s Luke Forrester calling. I failed to thank you for our lunch today. It was a nice gesture. I’ve read through the informational packet you mentioned and see that Poppy Gold Inns’ standard check-in time is 4:00 p.m. So, um, it was good to get into our accommodations early. Have a good afternoon and we’ll see you tonight.”

Carlie blinked. All things considered, it was practically an apology.

* * *

THE TEMPERATURE DROPPED rapidly once the sun had gone down and Carlie shivered as she hurried across Poppy Gold to meet the Forresters at the sledding hill. Turning down the twins’ requests had been impossible, but she hadn’t expected to stay this late and had just worn a lightweight coat to work.

The sledding hill was in the more open section of Poppy Gold where a number of gold miners’ cabins and other relics of the 1849 Gold Rush were preserved.

As the story went, a few of the miners had dug their heels in when the “townsfolk” wanted to buy them out and build fine homes on the rolling land above the creek. They’d hung on, forcing the town to build north of them on a flatter section. Most had been abandoned by the time James Connor bought the historic district of Glimmer Creek, but they’d been restored now. A few were even available for people who wanted to try sleeping in a primitive gold miner’s shanty.

A number of guests had already gathered at the base of the hill, breath fogging as they sipped from paper cups. Cheerful greetings back and forth showed their spirits weren’t dampened by the chilly air. Stacks of hay bales lined the gentle slope, creating a wide channel down to the flatter area below. Spotlights illuminated the scene, along with Christmas lights on the bare branches of the surrounding trees.

Carlie checked to see if the Forresters had arrived before getting decaf coffee for herself, grateful to wrap her fingers around the warm cup. If Luke and the twins didn’t arrive soon, they might miss the first sprays of snow from the machines. Not that it was actually snow when it came out, but the water droplets froze almost instantly in the frigid air.

Hurry up, she urged mentally.

A couple of minutes later she spotted them coming up the lighted path.

“We’re just about to start,” she called.

The girls eagerly got cider and cookies and stood at the base of the slope with the other guests. They were just in time. Uncle Liam stood at the top with two large handbells. He raised his arms theatrically and shook them.

The snowmakers chugged into life, starting at the top of the hill and moving down, spewing white plumes across the grass. The onlookers cheered and someone began singing “Let It Snow.” The others joined in and it was soon followed by “Jingle Bells” and other festive songs.