3 Madness in Christmas River Page 18

  My stomach tightened.

  “What are you saying?” I asked.

  His eyes brimmed with tears.

  “I’m leaving, Cin,” he said. “I’m leaving Christmas River.”

  Chapter 67

  “What?” I said after a few moments of stunned silence.

  “I’m going to Scotland for a year. Larry and Sheila are coming too. Larry’s got some cousin that started up a brewery there. We’re going to go learn about beer in the old country.”

  I looked down at the ground.

  I hadn’t seen this coming at all.

  It took me a few minutes to collect myself.

  “But… but do you think that it’s a good idea?”

  My mind was overwhelmed with worried thoughts. Images of Warren tripping down some old flight of stairs, of him slipping on the old cobblestone, of him drinking too much in a pub and not being able to find his way home.

  Of him falling into a vat of beer.

  I didn’t like thinking in such terms, but Warren was old, and he was getting older every day. He had lived with me the last few years because I was worried about him. Now he was moving halfway around the world, thousands and thousands of miles away.

  “But what if—”

  “Cinny,” he said. “A person has to live. That’s what your grandma always said. And since she died, and since your mom died, I’ve felt like I lost a little bit of spark in my life. It’s time I get some of it back.”

  “But—”

  “I know, I know,” he said, patting my hand. “But I’m going to be okay. This is just the kind of thing an old man like me needs.”

  “I’m just worried that—”

  “Everything moves, Cin,” he said, interrupting me again. “Life’s a river, and your old grandpa’s been stuck in the reeds too long. You’re moving on with your life, and I realized that I have to move on with mine too, as long as I’ve got one to move on with.”

  I bit my lip, a few tears spilling over the rim of my eyes, trailing down the side of my face.

  “Now, c’mon,” he said, brushing them away and smiling. “We can’t have the bride crying.”

  I nodded.

  “Daniel and I had planned on you living with us,” I said. “Are you sure we can’t talk you out of this? What about when you come back?”

  Warren shrugged.

  “I’m not planning that far ahead,” he said. “I think I’ll just let the wind take me where it will, like the free man I’ve always wanted to be.”

  I let a few moments pass while I tried to stop the flow of tears.

  I let out a short, sad sigh.

  He was right.

  No matter how much I would worry about him, Warren was his own man. And he had to do the things he wanted to do. He had to do the things that made him feel alive.

  And even though I was sad, I was proud of him for doing something like this.

  For having the courage to live.

  I wiped away the tears.

  “So when do you leave, old man?” I asked.

  “January,” he said.

  “So soon,” I said.

  “Naw,” he said. “It’s been twenty years coming.”

  He put his arm around my shoulders and squeezed me tight.

  It was hard, moving on with life. It was so easy to stay in the same place when it became comfortable and easy. But if you stayed in that place long enough, the joy and zest of life faded a little bit. Without adventures and changes in the scenery from time to time, life could grow stale and old.

  And even though it was hard, sometimes moving on meant letting go of something, or someone, a little bit.

  I would have to let Warren move on.

  Just like he would have to let me move on.

  “I’m proud of you, old man,” I said.

  He smiled, and then kissed me on the cheek.

  “Not as proud as I am of you, Cin,” he said. “Not by a long shot.”

  Chapter 68

  “I want to take you somewhere.”

  I was more tired than I had ever been in my entire life.

  But I also hadn’t ever been so happy.

  And I didn’t want the night to end.

  The wedding had gone off without a hitch. The day had been crystal clear, all bright blue skies and silver snow. We said our vows in Christmas River’s Catholic Church. The aisle was lined with candles, poinsettias, and white roses, courtesy of Penny the florist, who had really come through. Sunlight streamed through the church’s stained glass, and everyone I loved most in the world was there with us.

  Daniel was looking more handsome than I’d ever seen him in his suit and cowboy hat. When he saw me walking down the aisle, there were tears in his eyes.

  Huckleberry was the ring bearer, and trotted up to the altar like he was born for the job.

  I trembled as I gazed deep into Daniel’s eyes, and we promised to always take care of each other. To always be there for one another, no matter what. Through sickness, health, and Gingerbread Junction competitions.

  For the rest of our lives.

  In that moment, I felt that even though I was in my mid-thirties, my life was only just beginning.

  The reception was just as lovely as the ceremony and was held in the Christmas River Lodge’s majestic grand room. There was a crackling fire, good music, dancing, and plenty of delicious Pacific Northwest food and drink. The finished Cinderella gingerbread castle that Kara and I had made for the wedding sat proudly by the cake, and was by far the grandest gingerbread house we had ever made.

  Warren had brewed a keg of special wedding beer just for the reception, and judging from the feeling of joy that filled the room, all of our guests were thoroughly enjoying the brew. Which inflated the old man’s ego to no end.

  Even the sour Mrs. Billings, who I had invited out of sheer politeness, cut a rug out on the dance floor after having a pint of ale.

  It made me happy to no end seeing that everyone was having such a wonderful time. And when I saw Owen and Chrissy dancing together during a slow song, I knew that he was on the track to recovering from his heartbreak.

  And that she was, too.

  I thought about what Owen had said about love. How it was no good, that you fell in love with the wrong people and only ever ended up getting hurt. That love only ever made a fool out of you.

  And maybe he was right.

  But as I swayed with Daniel during our first dance to the soulful singing of Otis Redding, I realized that even when you got hurt, love was worth it.

  For a moment as perfect as this, it was all worth it.

  By the end of the night, I was exhausted. I felt like I had been spinning and twirling for hours, dancing on the clouds.

  The night boiled down. All the guests left, and it was time for Daniel and me to call it as well. But instead, he told me to grab my jacket.

  That he wanted to take me somewhere.

  And even though I was beyond exhausted, I didn’t want the night to end.

  I didn’t ever want to lose the magical feeling that was stirring in my heart.

  Chapter 69

  I bundled up in a fur-hooded knee-length down jacket. I grabbed the present that I had wrapped earlier, stuffed it inside the coat, and met Daniel outside by his car.

  We drove for a while toward Christmas River in the darkness. We finally pulled off to a side road, and then he parked the car on the shoulder.

  I looked around, unsure what we were doing out in the middle of the woods.

  “You know, there’s a fire going back in our lodge room right now,” I said, rubbing my hands together for warmth. “Sounds pretty good right about now.”

  “C’mon,” he said. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

  I smiled, a sense of anticipation and excitement growing in my chest.

  He started opening his car door.

  “Wait,” I said.

  He stopped, and looked back at me.

  “I have something for you,” I said.
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  I pulled the large square present out from my jacket and handed it gently to him.

  He looked down at it, and then back up at me.

  “What’s this?” he asked.

  “Just something I found,” I said. “Something you should have up in your house. Uh, I mean, our house.”

  He peeled the silver paper away and pulled the photo frame from the wrapping.

  He peered at it for a moment, then glanced back up at me.

  “Cin, where did you…?”

  “Up in your attic,” I said. “I thought some of those pictures should see the light of day.”

  He looked back down at the frame.

  I had gotten a few of the old photos of him and Jared enlarged at the local photocopy store. With the help of Kara’s crafty skills, I had placed them in nice pine frames with the words “Jared and Daniel: Outdoorsmen of the Wild Woods,” carved into the bottom.

  Daniel didn’t say anything for a long while. As the silence dragged on, I began to get worried.

  Maybe that photo album had been in the attic for a reason.

  Maybe the memory of his brother had been too painful. Maybe there was a reason there were no photos of him up in Daniel’s house.

  I cleared my throat.

  “I hope that it’s okay,” I said softly.

  He looked over at me. His eyes gleamed in the moonlight.

  “I can’t believe you did this, Cin,” he said. “I haven’t seen these pictures in years.”

  He reached across, pulling me to him, and kissed the top of my head.

  “This… this means so much.”

  Relief swept through me.

  “I just thought he’d been in that attic long enough,” I said.

  He smiled, looking back at the picture of him and Jared grinning and putting bunny ears on each other.

  “I wish you could have known him, Cin,” he said, his voice growing thick with emotion. “He would have liked you so much.”

  His eyes grew moist.

  I squeezed his hand.

  “Me too,” I said. “Me too.”

  He gazed at the frame a little while longer, and then smiled. He placed it carefully on the dashboard, and cleared his throat.

  “Okay,” he said. “Now it’s my turn to show you something.”

  Chapter 70

  We got out of the car, stepping into the chilly winter’s night.

  The moonlight was bright and strong, and cast the trees in a bright blue glow. The stars danced up above, nestled in the folds of a dark blue blanket.

  The woods smelled of crisp winter pine needles and frost.

  Daniel got something from out of the trunk, and came around to me.

  I smiled when I saw what he was holding.

  “Are you crazy?” I said, placing my hands on my hips.

  “Yes,” he said. “That’s why you married me.”

  “I haven’t been skating in years,” I said. “I don’t know if I even remember how.”

  “Well, that’s what I’m here for,” he said. “To catch you when you fall.”

  I sat back in the passenger seat, and he took my silver heels off and replaced them with white ice skates. He laced them up carefully, and then put his own skates on.

  “You sure we aren’t going to fall through?” I said, looking over at the wide expanse of ice just off the road, where I assumed we were headed.

  “If we did, it’s only a few inches deep. This isn’t anything more than a meadow during the summer.”

  A few minutes later, we were gliding down on the ice. Or struggling to glide, in my case. Daniel, who was a strong skater, held my hand and pulled me along across the meadow.

  In the distance, warm light spilled happily from the windows of a few houses, brightening the cold winter’s evening.

  We stopped for a moment, gazing up at the moon and the sparkling stars, speckled across the night sky just like Christmas tree lights.

  I sighed happily. I couldn’t even feel the cold. My spirit was too warm and bright.

  “I don’t think there’s ever been such a beautiful night,” I said, looking at Daniel.

  He wrapped his arm around my shoulder.

  “You’ve made me very happy, Daniel Brightman,” I said.

  “It’s only the beginning,” he said.

  It felt like my heart might just burst with joy.

  I didn’t think such happiness was possible.

  “C’mon, we’re not there yet,” he said, grabbing my hand again.

  “Where?” I said. “I thought this was it.”

  He looked back and smiled, but said nothing.

  He pulled me along toward the other side of the meadow that bordered the woods. We glided close to the bank for a while until we came to a small clearing.

  We stopped in front of a two story house that was built in the style of a cabin. A layer of snow frosted its roof. A stream of smoke puffed from its chimney stack, disappearing into the night. Warm light danced in its windows.

  It looked just like a scene out of a Christmas card.

  Daniel wrapped his arm around my waist and we stood staring at it.

  “It looks just like a painting,” I said, admiring the cozy scene. “It’s lovely.”

  “You really think so?” he asked.

  “Don’t you?”

  “Of course,” he said, looking down at me. “That’s why I bought it.”

  Chapter 71

  “Jesus Christ in Christmas River!” I said. “You didn’t.”

  My jaw almost hit the ice.

  His face brightened, and a childish grin came across it.

  “You know that I did,” he said.

  I felt like my eyes might just bulge out of their sockets.

  This house, with its charming architecture, two-story design, and its stunning view of the meadow, was ours.

  “But what about your house? What about the plans we—”

  “I’m renting it out,” he said. “I’ve just had some time to think about it, and I think it’s time for both of us to let go of the past. We’re starting a new life together. It’s only right that we have a new home to start in.”

  I shook my head, still flabbergasted.

  “You sneaky devil,” I said. “How’d you do all of this without me knowing?”

  He grinned mischievously, and pulled me close to him. I slid into his arms.

  “Daniel,” I said. “I’m absolutely crazy about you.”

  He laughed.

  “Merry Christmas, Mrs. Brightman,” he said.

  He leaned down and kissed me tenderly. A kiss that captured all the joy flooding both of our hearts.

  A kiss that held all the promise of our future lives together.

  “Merry Christmas, Mr. Brightman.”

  He smiled and then grabbed my hand.

  “C’mon,” he said. “Let me show you around.”

  We glided like two swans across the meadow toward our new home.

  Toward our new life together.

  In that moment I knew.

  Warren had been right.

  I had all the luck.

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  About the Author

  Meg Muldoon writes cozy fiction mysteries from her home in central Oregon. She enjoys bourbon bread pudding, red cowboy boots, and craft glue guns.

  She lives with an Australian cattle dog named Huckleberry.

  For more about Meg and her upcoming books, visit her blog at http://megmuldoon.blogspot.com/

  Look for Meg’s brand new cozy mystery series in the early spring of 2014.

  Look for the fourth installment of the Christmas River series, Malice in Christmas River, in summer of 2014.

  To sign up for the Meg Muldoon New Book Alert mailing list, click here.

  Follow Meg on twitter @msmegmuldoon

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