*“Harper, this is just amazing!” A voice from the door of Cam’s workshop brought Harper’s attention from the dower chest she’d been circling. Annabelle slipped inside on a breath of chilly winter air. “Mom’s going to adore it.”
Harper ran a palm over the surface of the lid. The medallions had turned out spectacularly well and the coat of wax she’d applied the day before gave the wood a subtle organic-looking sheen. All she had left to do was apply a second coat of wax to the top and to the chest, put it together, and it would be ready for Cam’s mother. “I hope so.
“Your paintings are so incredible. You and Cam should totally go into business together. You’d make a fortune.” Anna walked around the chest, stopping every so often to stoop and peer at the figures, flowers, hearts, and other designs Harper had created.
A swell of pride rose in Harper’s chest. The piece was lovely, and she was justifiably proud of her hard work over the past couple of weeks. “It did turn out nice if I do say so myself.”
“Will you do one for me?” Anna plopped down on the high stool at Cam’s workbench.
“You’ll have to talk to your brother about that. I’d love to do another one.” Harper pulled on a pair of disposable vinyl gloves and, taking the applicator from the can of wax, rubbed it over the surface of the lid that was balanced on the sawhorses.
“How’s it going at the arts center?” Annabelle jiggled her knees as she sat, then popped back up and wandered around the workshop, making Harper aware of how much excess energy the Walkers had. Cam was the same way, always on the go. Not fidgety, simply busy. A few weeks ago, it would have annoyed her, but being with Cam energized her, and she discovered that Annabelle and Jazz had the same effect. The way she kept wandering and glancing at Harper every few seconds, it did seem as if Anna had something on her mind, though.
“I’ve only been in a couple of times, but I already love it!” Harper wiped wax with the grain of the poplar, enjoying how easily it swiped on the painted wood. “Jazz is so full of energy and ideas. We’re going to schedule watercolor classes for the new year and a sketching class. We’ve gotten sign-ups for both and our Facebook page and Instagram are getting tons of responses. This town is art crazy, and I think that’s fabulous. Have you seen the holiday exhibit? Christmas on the River? So many gorgeous photos”—she held up one hand—“oh no, wait. Of course you have—you have pictures in the display. That one of the showboat all decked out is amazing. Anna, you have a really good eye. You should think about teaching a photography class at the arts center.”
Anna grinned. “I do believe that’s the most words I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth at one time.”
Harper scoffed, but Anna continued to smile. “Seriously, Harp. I think this project and the arts center … hell, I think the whole town of River’s Edge has been good for you. At least I hope we have.”
Harper continued rubbing wax into the wood, enjoying the Zen of the simple back-and-forth motion, as well as the pleasant conversation. Anna had become a good friend, someone she felt comfortable hanging out with, as had Jazz. She was even getting to know the women in the Thursday night yoga sessions she’d started attending. She was stronger, more alive than she’d been in nearly two years, and this town, these people, and even Cameron Walker were a huge part of that recovery.
She’d also had a couple of sessions with Lianne Morrison, the therapist her aunts had recommended. It had been good to simply talk and process her sorrow. Lianne was kind and understanding, helping her figure out how to navigate the myriad emotions of grief that she’d been holding inside. Even the first session had been remarkably revealing, working through her anger at Drew, which she’d only just acknowledged. She’d been awash with guilt every time the anger surfaced, but Lianne assured it that it was a natural part of grieving. Harper had known that intellectually, but knowing it and dealing with it were two entirely different matters.
“Can I ask you something?” Anna blurted suddenly. “It’s kinda personal.”
Ah, here it is. She knew Anna had an ulterior motive. There was no reason for her to just drop by Cam’s studio unannounced.
Harper eyed her cautiously. “Okay.”
“You know Cam’s crushing pretty hard on you, right?”
Heat filled Harper’s cheeks and she refocused on the wax. “He … um … he’s indicated he’d like to be more than friends.”
“And what do you think about that?” Anna’s tone wasn’t hostile, merely interested.
“I like Cam … a lot…” Harper sucked at dissembling. She always had.
“Do I hear a but coming?”
“Not exactly. I guess I need to sort me out before I start anything.” She felt a touch of guilt as she remembered the night of the parade and how she and Cam had kissed like teenagers. How much she’d wanted him. She wouldn’t mind talking to someone about her feelings for him, but not his sister.
Anna’s gaze penetrated Harper’s attempt at a cool facade. “Look, you and he are none of my business, except that he’s my little brother. I would hate to see him get hurt. He may seem all holly jolly on the surface, but he’s fragile when it comes to women. I don’t know if you know, but—”
Harper held up one hand, certain that Anna was about to share her opinion about Cam’s former fiancée. “He told me about his fiancée.”
“Okay. Just…” Anna lifted one shoulder. “Don’t take this the wrong way. It’s only that I’m kinda protective of my kid brother.”
“I get that, but here’s the thing…” Harper set the can of wax and applicator aside. “He’s a soldier.”
Anna’s expression was blank for a moment, then, “Oh, the reserves.”
Harper crossed her arms over her belly, being careful not to touch the wax-covered glove to her sweatshirt. “I don’t hate the military or blame the army for what happened to Drew. I was proud of how eager he was to serve, and I’m proud of Cam for the same reason. But the risk of losing someone is greater when they’re in the military, and I don’t know if I can deal with that again.”
“Cam’s never been overseas. He’s always been deployed for national needs—mostly natural disasters.”
“But that doesn’t mean he couldn’t be sent to a war zone.”
“True.” Anna nodded. “He could be. He loves being in the reserves.”
“I’d never ask him to change that for me.” Harper paced to the door, peeked out into the evening light where a couple of cardinals pecked at a clear spot in the snowy yard. “I like him so much, Anna. I think we’re becoming good friends, and okay, I am attracted to him. But, as for more, I just don’t know if I can…” She stopped in front of Anna and raised both hands in a gesture of futility. “You know what? This is a conversation I should be having with him.”
Anna slipped off the stool and zipped her red ski jacket. “It is,” she agreed. “The sooner the better, Harper. He needs to know how you feel before the two of you get any more involved.”
Harper had no more nodded in agreement when the door opened and in trotted Cam, rosy-cheeked and singing “White Christmas” in a pretty fair baritone. “I’ve come to escort you to the Candlelight Walk.”
Harper exchanged a meaningful glance with Anna before offering Cam a smile. “What’s that?”
“Only the Christmas event of the season.”
“You’ve said that about everything you’ve dragged me to for the past three weeks, Cameron Walker.”
He hurried over to her. “But this one is really fantastic. Luminarias along every sidewalk south of Main Street, and all along the River Walk. The shops aren’t open, but they’re all lit up so Main Street looks like a Christmas party waiting to happen. Paula and Mac and Holly serve doughnuts and cookies and hot chocolate down on the River Walk, and every house between Main and the river is decorated. We get to vote on the one we like the best. Plus, Justin Dykeman brings his two carriages out, and somebody told me that Tuff Tuffington will have Trudy’s carriage there, too.” It all came out in one huge, excited breath before he paused, then said, “You know what that means?”
Harper pulled off her gloves and tossed them in the trash, then set the lid back on the can of carnauba wax and tapped it in place with a rubber mallet. “Horse poop in the streets?”
He fake-frowned. “Romantic carriage ride under a blanket, Christmas lights, the stars as our canopy, the two of us—”
“Annnd I’m out.” Anna scurried to the door. “See you guys later. Maybe. Unless I get invited on a romantic carriage ride through the Christmas lights, under the stars, with a tall handsome stranger.” She fluttered her hand against her chest and gave them an arch look. “You never know. It could happen.” She slipped outside, a cool blast of air hitting them before the door closed all the way.
“Come on, let’s go. It’s almost dark.” Cam grabbed Harper’s coat from the hook by the door.
Her belly tightened. “Cam, wait. We need to talk.”
*
Cam’s heart stuttered. She looked so serious and the sadness was there in her eyes again. Dammit.
He took a deep breath. “Let’s talk later—in the carriage, maybe, or after, okay?” He touched his lips to her forehead. “It’s almost Christmas, Harp. A few more days. Can we just … you know, enjoy?”
She hesitated, gazing at him for a moment, then suddenly, her whole demeanor changed, and she looped her arms around his neck. “Tuff Tuffington? Did you make that name up?” Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, but at least it was a smile.
He placed his hands on her slim hips and tugged her close, lacing his fingers at the small of her back. “Nope. His name is actually Ryan, but he’s been Tuff since he was the star quarterback in ninth grade.”
“Ah, I see. And Trudy is?”
He nuzzled her neck, inhaling the scent of her soap—strawberries and vanilla and something else sweet and tempting that was uniquely Harper. “Trudy Morrow. She has the horse farm outside of town. Do you like horses?”
She tipped her head to grant him access to the soft skin behind her ear. “I like the idea of horses.”
He nipped her earlobe, delighting in the little gasp and sigh that escaped at his touch. “The idea?” He hoped she didn’t notice how his voice had become raspy with desire.
“I’ve never been on a horse before.”
She leaned back in his arms, and the touch of melancholy he’d seen earlier was replaced with the sparkle that made her eyes appear almost emerald. God, he loved her eyes.
“And clearly, we aren’t going to get any more work done tonight.” She turned her face to his and kissed him—a sweet, gentle kiss that, oddly, made him a little sad. “You, my friend, are a huge distraction.” She kissed him, this time with a bit more ardor before stepping out of his arms. “Okay, take me to this candlelight thing.”
*
The Candlelight Walk was beautiful, exactly as Cam knew it would be. Six north-south streets—Pearl, Hill, Broadway, Jefferson, Harrison, and Poplar—were closed to motorized traffic and luminarias lighted the way from Main Street down to the River Walk. All the houses along the way were decorated and he and Harper walked the whole route hand-in-hand, stopping here and there to admire a particularly extravagant display. It was as if the homeowners were each trying to outdo the other with lighted reindeer and blow-up Santas and elves and trees festooned with twinkling colored lights.
Carolers wandered up and down, singing Christmas songs, while Aidan Flaherty, his son Matt, and Jenny and Gabe Dawson’s boy, Luke—dressed in top hats and tails—tap-danced in one of the overlooks at the river. After each dance, one of them turned his hat upside down for donations that their sign said would go to the River’s Edge Humane Society. Harper beat Cam to the punch, digging a twenty out of her wallet and dropping it into little Luke’s hat, which caused the crowd that had gathered to clap enthusiastically and follow suit.
She pointed to one group of carolers near the makeshift carriage depot behind the Warner mansion made up almost entirely of the Lange family and a few others, with fire chief Becker Lange accompanying the singers on the guitar. Cam heard his cousin Eli’s strong bass and tossed him a thumbs-up as he and Harper made their way to Justin’s lighted carriage.
The horse, a huge gray Belgian named Maybelle, had long white hair feathering over her hooves and started with a little jerk when Justin chirruped. The sudden motion sent Harper right into Cam’s arms, making him deliriously happy. She didn’t pull away, but rather settled peacefully against him, one arm over his belly under the blanket. Justin and Maybelle took them up and down every street, and because they were his last fare for the evening, offered to drive them all the way to Harper’s apartment above Mac’s garage. Harper agreed before Cam could utter a word, so off they went across Main Street.
“Thanks, Justin.” Cam tucked a couple of tens into Justin Dykeman’s hand as they shook after he helped Harper out of the carriage.
Justin’s beardy grin showed bright in the moonlight. “My pleasure, man. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” The words were innocuous enough, but Cam was glad Harper was focused on petting Maybelle and missed Justin’s wink.
He had no idea what the rest of the evening would bring, but as long as he was with Harper, he didn’t care. He’d admit he hoped they would pick up the same affectionate touching and kissing that had happened under the blanket in the carriage. He’d felt her pulse quicken when he’d pressed his lips against the soft skin over her collarbone, heard the little sigh that escaped as he’d touched his tongue to the shell-curve of her ear. She’d returned every kiss, pulled off her mittens, and tunneled her hands under his jacket to warm them on his sweatered chest. She’d kissed the scruff of beard on his cheek and chin, teased and laughed with him as their heads bumped lightly together when Maybelle made a quick, unexpected hop to avoid a group of teenagers crossing the street.
But now, she stood at the bottom of the stairs, one hand on the newel post, a rather somber expression on her face.
*
“Okay if I come in?” Cam asked as Justin and Maybelle clip-clopped down the street toward Main.
Harper hesitated. It was late, and she had to be at the arts center early the next morning. With only five days left before Christmas Eve, the center had been doing such a booming gift business that Jazz had decided to open earlier and stay open later to accommodate the crowd. It would be so easy to send him on his way. Save what needed to be said for another day.
Coward, her conscience nudged. But she and Cam had had a wonderful evening full of holiday cheer, and she didn’t want to lose that feeling, even though they needed to talk. She needed to talk. Annabelle was right. It would be cruel to let things go any further. “Okay. I can make us some tea.”
Cam held out one hand, gesturing for her to lead the way up the steps to her apartment. “Do you have any wine?”
She did, but this wasn’t a wine kind of conversation, so instead of responding, she opened the door, hung up her coat, and watched as Cam tossed his jacket on a hook. Inanely, she thought, of course it hit the first time. She’d seen Mac do it, too. She’d tried it not long after she’d moved in and hadn’t mastered it yet. Her jacket always hit the floor. Must be in the wrists. Crazy thoughts. Lianne would tell her she was deflecting. She was.
He approached her, touched her shoulder to turn her toward the sofa, his intentions clear. She wanted that, too, so very much that she allowed him to lead there, but he stopped short of the couch, pulled her against him, and kissed her. A powerful kiss full of hunger and heat, as if he couldn’t wait another second to claim her lips.
No. No. This wasn’t fair to him or to herself. With great reluctance, she pulled back and placed one hand on his chest. “Cam, wait.”
He peered down into her face. “What?” His smile—that sexy, adorable, dimpled smile, the one that made her heart speed up—faded. “What’s wrong?”
“I…” She stepped away from him. It would be easier if he wasn’t touching her. If she couldn’t feel his warm breath on her cheek. She may as well say it, plain and simple. “Don’t fall in love with me.”
His blond brow furrowed, but he gave her a cockeyed smile. “Might be too late.” He closed the gap between them and tugged her into his arms again, but she kept her body still and straight. “Harper, what’s going on?”
“I’m starting to care too much for you, Cam, and I just can’t get involved with another soldier.” Her words didn’t even convince herself, so she squared her shoulders. “I truly can’t.”
“Soldier?” He dropped his arms, bewilderment in his smoky gray eyes. “I’m only gone one weekend a month, plus a two-week training once a year.” He paced away from her and then back to face her. “In the seven years I’ve been in reserves, I’ve only been deployed four times. Every time, here in the States.”
“But you could end up in the Middle East, in Africa, in Eastern Europe,” she reasoned, keeping her voice quiet. “Anywhere there’s a conflict.”
“That’s true, but, Harper … we have something special here. I know you feel it, too.” The pain in his tone made her want to take him in her arms. “Don’t do this. Give us a chance.”
She gazed at him, desire pooling in her belly and for a moment, she nearly threw her fears aside. She longed to hurl herself against him and take a chance on whatever came next. But the specter of a mahogany casket being lowered into the ground nudged at the edges of her heart. She shook her head slowly. “I can’t. What if I lose you like I lost Drew? I couldn’t bear it, Cameron.”
Cam’s lips tightened into a grim line. “Excuse me, but Drew died in a car accident. It could’ve happened in Detroit as easily as it happened in Kuwait.” He threw his arms out palms raised. “I could get hit by a bus tomorrow. Or fall in the river and drown on Tuesday. Harp, come on—”
Torn into a million pieces, Harper stalked to the kitchen—she had to put some space between them or she was going to smack him. Or kiss him. Either way she’d still be a mess. “Drew died because he was a soldier deployed in a desert where he didn’t belong, and when he died, a piece of me died with him.” She placed both hands on the bar that now separated them. “I don’t have it in me to do that again, Cameron.”
“I can’t promise you I won’t die, Harper,” Cam coaxed. “You can’t promise me you won’t. That’s not reasonable.”
“Maybe it’s not, but I can’t help how I—” Suddenly a loud boom sounded below, outside the garage, as if two cars had collided in the alley. Then the lights flickered and the floor felt like it was rippling ever so slightly. The mugs on the mug rack rattled and the Christmas tree in the corner blinked off and on again.