36

“Are you sure you’ll be all right, Aunt Lulu?” Darcy asked, as she double wrapped her favorite scarf. The supplemental clothes from the lost and found, and her aunt’s closet had been a welcomed help, but having her own things made the world feel more right side up.

“Of course, my darling. And I won’t be by myself. Isabel will be here torturing me, won’t you, my dear?” Aunt Lulu winked at the willowy physical therapist who was typing notes on her tablet.

“Well, I prefer to think of it as helping you be ready for the walk-a-thon in April,” Isabel Wright, Aunt Lulu’s physical therapist, said with a wink to Darcy. “But if you prefer torture, Mrs. Penhearst, I can accommodate. Don’t worry. We have plenty to keep us occupied until you return.”

“But you don’t want to miss the festival opening, do you?”

Isabel shook her head as she set the tablet on the coffee table and reached for a compact TENS pain reduction unit. “The Christmas Festival will last twelve full days. I’ll have my chance to eat too much and throw a few rings around a soda bottle. Trust me.” She began attaching the electrodes to Aunt Lulu’s injured arm.

The device looked terribly wicked, but Darcy knew the relief such a small device could bring. She wasn’t sure she could have recovered after tearing her rotator cuff without those little electrical shocks.

Attaching the final pad to Aunt Lulu’s arm, Isabel glanced toward Darcy. “After a few months in this town, I’ve experienced my fair share of festival opening ceremonies.”

“Well, if you’re sure. I won’t be too long.” Darcy zipped up her coat, hoping the fluffy white scarf hid her smile. Darcy’s inner six-year-old was nearly bursting at every edge to see the light display, eat a funnel cake, and win a ridiculous stuffed animal that would be cheaper to buy in any drug store.

“No rush. Besides, once I finish my, umm, ‘torture,’ I think I might be able to beat your aunt at a board game if she is only one handed.” Isabel set the TENS unit on the table beside Aunt Lulu’s bed. “I am zero for seven in our Wednesday evening battles. And someone missed our date this week by falling off a ladder. I think she was just trying to avoid her inevitable loss.”

“Hmph!” Aunt Lulu snorted. “My dear Isabel, I could beat you with both my hands injured and one eye knocked out.”

“And how would you get to the pieces?” Darcy asked.

“Darcy darling, I would use my teeth. I have excellent core strength. I take an exercise class with Eloise.”

“Of course, you do.” Darcy shook her head, as she leaned forward and kissed her aunt’s cheek. “Well, why don’t you take it easy on Miss Wright? Hmmm. We’d like her to get you ready for the walk-a-thon.”

The gong clanged, announcing a visitor.

“I’ll get it.” Bennett’s lumbering footsteps echoed his holler as he shuffled down the front hall steps.

Aunt Lulu pursed her lips. “You better hurry. The lighting of the tree will be exactly at six o’clock. Mayor Donaldson is nothing if not prompt.”

“Love you.” Darcy turned to Isabel. “I shouldn’t be more than an hour.”

“Take your time.”

Darcy hustled to the entryway, but what crossed over the threshold locked her breath in her throat. Finn stood just inside the front door. His hair was tousled by the wind, and a wide grin spread across his face. Darcy’s lungs forgot how to expand or contract.

Breathe, girl. Breathe. Sucking in a deep breath, her chest rattled with a cough. Heat spread from the middle of her chest, up her throat, and surely flooded her cheeks.

“Hi.” His greeting was low, deep, and rumbled through her like a drumroll.

“Hi.” She slid a step closer, unable to break her focus from his clear blue gaze.

Earlier, Darcy saw him during practice, but he seemed to be constantly moving in the opposite direction. While he zipped through the church, she had convinced herself the space was good, ignoring the hurt pricking her heart with his neglect. Rationally, she couldn’t be trusted to be within touching distance of Finn or her lips would superhumanly attach to his. She needed to maintain her resistance. Her life was in a state of barely controlled chaos. She was in no position to be placing her lips on anyone else’s, especially a lovely pastor with whom she was co-directing a children’s pageant.

But now, with him kissing distance close—his enchanting, fresh, woodsy sent filling her senses—she wasn’t sure of her middle name, let alone all the excellent reasons why her lips shouldn’t be pressed against his. When Aunt Lulu said she’d invited Finn to join Darcy and Ben at the Christmas festival opening Darcy tried to bury her pleasure under the blanket of rational reasoning. Her time in Gibson’s Run was temporary. He was staying. She was leaving. All they should ever be was friends. But all the wonderfully sound, scientific logic flittered out the open door with one glance from Finn Tarrington.

Darcy heard a click, and moved a step closer to Finn, who seemed to be floating toward her. She heard another click, followed by the slightest whisper of her name.

“Earth to Darcy.” Bennett’s booming voice cut through her haze.

Darcy glanced toward her brother who stared in Finn’s direction. Her cheeks flared under the broiler level heat of Ben’s single eyebrow lift.

“Well, what’re we waiting for?” Without waiting for an answer, Darcy ripped open the front door and stomped across the veranda to the three wide steps. Ben’s rumble of laughter chased her as she jogged to the sidewalk. Stupid twinning.

“Wait up,” Ben said.

But she lunged forward trying to drown herself in the crisp December air, hoping her cheeks would simmer and sanity would return. She refused to look behind her to see if Finn followed with her brother. She needed to resist temptation. She refused to be Lot’s wife reimagined.