The Cabin at Candy Cane Lane: A Christmas Romance Novella (Blizzard Bluff Book 1) Read online

  Taking a right at one of the four stoplights, I head toward my parents’ home. This is another place I haven’t seen in years. They’ve always come to see me in Boston. They never asked me to pay to come see them. Instead, they took it upon themselves to never try and make things difficult for me.

  Which makes me feel like shit for the way I’ve thought of my mom and dad while I was with Camden. His family had money, and in the end made me feel inferior.

  I made a point to do all the things with Camden I’d wanted to do as a kid.

  Namely, traveling.

  Traveling was one of the things I wanted to do, something my parents could never afford. I’d come back from summer break. Everyone would be talking about their trips to The Grand Canyon or Disney. It was another point in my life where I seemed to be left out.

  I promised myself when I was able to make my own way, it would be a priority of mine. I’ve been on cruises to the Caribbean, driven in Canada, walked the streets of Liverpool, and sunbathed on the beach in Mexico. Life as I knew it was great.

  Especially with the man I'd promised to spend the rest of it with.

  I should've known things that seemed too good to be true, in fact were.

  He indulged me. Any idea I had, every whim, he was willing to help me make happen. Little did I know, he wasn’t happy. Not with me, not with our lives, and definitely not with the idea of it being us forever. All shit I’ve found out he hated. As soon as he left me at the altar, all bets were off. Facebook posts I’d never been able to see were made public. Words that had been spoken behind my back are now spoken to my face.

  It’s been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.

  Inhaling, I let the disappointment wash over me, but at the same time, I stiffen my bottom lip. I've cried enough over he who shall not be named.

  It's a five-mile drive to my parent's house, and as soon as I see the dormer roof, I'm home. I used to look out that window every night before I went to sleep. I'd hit my knees and pray to whoever would listen. I'd ask for the life of my dreams, and I'd promise to be grateful.

  Well I’d gotten the life, but maybe I hadn’t been as grateful as I thought I was.

  It all slipped from my hands and I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to get it back again.

  CHAPTER THREE

  LUCAS

  “Are you sure you don’t mind going out to look at it?”

  I'm busy measuring a piece of wood in order to finish fixing this section of roof that was ripped off during the last snowstorm we had. There's another one coming in a few days and if I don't take care of this now, there's absolutely no telling when I might get another chance. "Sure," I answer off-handedly. "I'll get out there as soon as I can, but it might be a few days."

  She tucks her arms into herself, trying to ward off the cold and wind. “I appreciate it, Lucas. A friend will be staying out there for a few weeks and I don’t want her to be dealing with possible busted pipes.”

  I wonder who she's got staying that she won't mention their name. Old me, who had time to converse with others, who knew how to take a few hours off from my workload, he would be asking. But things have changed, and I'm not the same person I used to be. "Yeah, I'll let you know if there need to be repairs made."

  “You’re the best.”

  I’m the only, these days. Most anyone else who was in the construction business has packed up and left Blizzard Bluff. The summers are too short and the winters way too harsh. I’m keeping the family business afloat, but only barely. Every single day it feels like I’m failing, but I still get up and do what needs to be done. It’s hard to get workers, and more often than not, I’m doing most of the work. “Go on, I’ll text you to get the details. No sense in the both of us out here freezing. It’s gonna start raining soon.”

  She gives me a grateful look and then runs to her SUV.

  “Shit…” I sigh before heading back up on the ladder. I can’t believe someone tracked me down at my mom’s house, but I guess people will do what they have to. Left to an hour of uninterrupted work, I get the roof fixed, and head down the ladder. As soon as my boots hit the hard-packed snow, Mom is on the front porch, her voice loud in the quiet around us.

  “Luke, come in here and get some food.”

  To be clear, I will never say no to my mom’s cooking. “Be right there, let me put my tools up.”

  Walking over to my truck, I take note of the setting sun on the horizon. The sky is blues and pinks - a true cotton candy if I've ever seen one. As beautiful as it is, it's a warning of things to come. Weather is on the way. The tightening of my neck is anticipating a migraine, because with weather comes more work. There's a change in the air today, and maybe even in me. The wind is high, but everything else seems still. As if the world is preparing to unleash on us. I just hope I'm ready for whatever it may be.

  After stowing my gear in my truck, I turn back to the house. I’m hit with a punch to the gut. Things that have been the same since I was a little kid have changed. Mom’s moved things around inside the house, things that were previously only ever moved so that the floor underneath it could be cleaned. From my vantage point, I used to be able to see dad’s favorite chair, and the ottoman he kicked his feet on every night.

  Now, I see the twinkling lights of a Christmas tree, with nothing beside it. Just another sign of the changing times.

  This hurts.

  Worse than I ever thought it could be.

  Once inside, I take off my heavy coat and toe off my boots. I have to ask, otherwise I won’t be able to live with myself. Since he died, I’ve found I’m much more direct. Gone is the playful way I used to speak to others previously. Now I prefer to get to the point, I no longer believe in wasting time, since we’re completely unsure of how much we have left. Heading to the kitchen, I nod toward where Dad’s chair used to sit. “Did you decide to change some stuff up?”

  Her eyes mist over, the way they have so often in the six months since he’s been gone. “It was time,” she shrugs, sighing heavily. Almost implying I should understand, and I should, but it’s fucking hard. Going on without the people we’ve looked up to for our lives is bullshit, but I know I’m not the first person who has had to deal with a loss. It just plain sucks. “That chair and ottoman have been on their last legs for years. With your niece and nephew, we really needed more room.”

  A year ago my older brother married a woman with two children, and while those two have been one of the only things to keep me going since dad died, I hate that she’s using them as an excuse to wipe away memories of the man I looked up to. I’m finding it hard to argue with her logic though, afraid it will send her into the deep depression she was in immediately after he died. “You’re right. Two preteens are gonna need a lot of room to move around.”

  I wash my hands before drying them on a dishtowel and then have a seat next to her. She reaches over, grasping my hand in hers. "I know this is hard for you. It's almost impossible for me, but Luke; life has to move on. It's what he would have wanted, and it's what we must do."

  Sighing, I glance up at the spot on the roof I just fixed. "Doesn't make it any easier, knowing that you're right. There's so much I've wanted to tell him over the past few months. So many times I almost called him. When I have questions about what I'm doing on a job, when I want to know if I'm lowballing or being screwed. I want him to help me, day in and day out."

  "I do the same thing, multiple times a day. It's not easy, especially when he was always my first call. Whether the news was good or bad."

  Taking a drink of the beer she’s put in front of me, I roll my tight shoulders. Swallowing roughly, I wish desperately that things were different. “I’m trying. It’s a lot of pressure, especially with the business.”

  “You’ve done better than anyone would have ever imagined, Luke. You put so much on yourself, and you make it work.”

  By the skin of my fuckin' teeth. That's how I make it all work. On a shoestring budget and by the grace of god. She do
esn't know any of that, I make it seem as if things are going along status quo. It's so far from that, we might as well be in the outer orbit of the earth. "Thanks, just doing what I can."

  Every time I step foot in this house it’s as if I go back in time. I’m the teenager who was not only a wild card, but a bit of an adrenaline junkie. The one who had it all, but let it go in the blink of an eye. In fact, I let it go on the roof I was just fixing. Watched the girl I should probably be married to right now leave without a backward glance. Hell, my mother is putting my food on my plate as I’m deep in my head.

  “You want some more?” She asks.

  “No thank you, what you’ve already put on there will have me in the gym for an extra thirty minutes tomorrow.”

  “You need to fatten up a little, Luke. You’ve lost too much weight.”

  It’s because I’m literally working my ass off. But I can’t tell her that, because then she’ll realize how much I’ve been keeping from her. How I’ve turned inward in the last six months, and the last thing I want her to do is worry about me, but sometimes I worry myself.

  Gone are nights out at the bar with my friends. Instead I find myself drinking in front of the TV with no place to go, and no one to stop me. Raking my fingers through my hair, I push those intrusive thoughts away and focus on the meal in front of me. My mouth waters like I haven’t eaten in months, and I dig in.

  Roast and vegetables with cornbread has always been my favorite. Damn if this doesn’t hit the spot more than anything has since Dad died and left us all grasping for what our places are in not only this family, but the world.

  Eyes are on me, so I glance over at my mom. She’s beaming as I shovel food into my mouth, and like a starving man; I eat.

  Hoping against hope I can keep this going, without driving myself insane.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  HOLLY

  “Mom!” I scream as I get out of my car and run toward the front door.

  Looking up at the house, I almost cry.

  This is everything I’ve needed since I got in my car two days ago. To see the home I grew up in, to see my parents when I’m not running away from all my problems. When I’m not in the middle of the biggest embarrassment of my life, ready to put myself in a box and ship me off to the nearest place that would be willing to take me.

  She and dad come out and down the front steps to meet me. They envelop their arms around me, and I hold on tighter than I have in years.

  After I’d been left at the altar, I’d told them to come back to Blizzard Bluff. I’d wanted to lick my wounds privately, and pack up my apartment on my own. Perhaps it had been foolish of me, and I should’ve accepted whatever support they were willing to give. However, I had to work through it on my own, and I did everything I could to make it through.

  Now though?

  Now I need their support more than ever, and I’m ready to accept it. Completely capable of accepting whatever support they’re willing to give me.

  “How was the drive?” Dad asks, as he pulls back, cupping my cheeks with his rough hands.

  “Long, but uneventful. Honestly nice, gave me time to decompress after rushing to pack up my apartment.”

  “I wish you had let us help you,” Mom fusses with my hair.

  Shaking my head, I swallow roughly. “I needed to do it on my own.”

  Little does she know how I spent the last couple of weeks. Throwing away shit I thought was part of my past and future, while drinking myself to sleep at night. It was a necessary evil, and one I actually enjoyed the process of. It wasn’t pretty, but it was my life for the time I needed it to be.

  “Let’s go inside,” Dad herds us toward the front door with outstretched arms. “It’s freezing, and I’ve got chili on the stove.”

  My heart warms and my stomach growls. They know exactly what to do to make things better. "Let's go."

  Walking into my childhood home is like going back in time. To when things were simple and there wasn’t such a thing as getting your heart broken. When all your dreams were set to come true and there were no thoughts about failure. On the wall as I walk in are the pictures that encapsulate my childhood and teenage years. There’s the picture of me going to kindergarten the first day, where I graduated from high school and then college.

  The one that captures my attention, though?

  The prom picture.

  I went with Lucas Fortner.

  My teenage heart had loved him fiercely. He’d been my first everything, and although I’d loved him so deeply, I’d wanted to fly too.

  I'd believed I was destined for a big bright world, one where I could explore and make mistakes on my own. I'd been a wild child, wanting desperately to escape the monotony of what I thought my life would be if I stayed in Blizzard Bluff.

  Peaking in high school was the biggest fear I had. To live in the shadows of what I’d done in the brief four years of being at Blizzard Bluff High.

  And really, in the grand scheme of things, it hadn’t been much. A member of the cheerleading squad, equipment girl for the hockey team, and anything that would keep me from being at home. Because all I’d wanted to do was be with Lucas.

  Which scared the shit out of me.

  I didn’t want to live the rest of my life trying to get the same feeling I’d had in high school; like an addict trying to replicate the first high they’d ever had.

  More often than not, people who try to replicate these experiences fail.

  I’d watched while so many had rushed about their new lives, trying to live up to being the captain of the football team or head cheerleader. Things that had been easy in high school, and then they realized looking out at the world, that none of it mattered.

  Especially if you weren’t going to college. If all you planned on doing was finding a man and getting married. If all your hopes and dreams were based on being a stay at home wife and mother. You tended to live out the joys and accomplishments of your past, instead of your future.

  That was never something I wanted.

  My hopes and dreams were bigger. In my mind, they were better. Even if I had to give up what had been the love of my young life.

  Until they all came crashing down around me.

  “This is good,” I moan, taking a bite of the chili and cornbread my dad has placed in front of me. “I haven’t had food like this in way too long.”

  “You haven’t been home in way too long,” he looks over with a raised eyebrow.

  “I know,” I duck my head. My ex-fiance wasn’t a fan of Blizzard Bluff. He’d thought it was too simple, too remote, and he never wanted to come here. Instead of insisting, I’d gone along with him, because I’d thought I was too good for the town I’d grown up in. Not coming home aligned with my fears of living in the past. Although I could see that it hurt my parents, I still refused to give in. Now I’m realizing how short-sighted those thoughts were. “I know I hurt you all by not coming home much, and I promise to correct that behavior.”

  “We’ve missed you,” Mom reaches over, grabbing my hand in hers. “We understood, even if you weren’t completely honest with me. I know he thought we were below him, that our home wasn’t up to his standards, and Blizzard Bluff wasn’t where he saw himself being in the future. If it was what made you happy then we were willing to deal with it. Whatever it took, but now that we know he wasn’t the man you thought he was, the man we thought he was, we’re so glad you came home.”

  Surprisingly I've missed this place too, but the words hang on the back of my throat. I can't seem to push them past the lump that's taken up residence. In trying to keep myself from being the type of person who didn't want to peak in high school, I've somehow limited myself to being away from my hometown. Maybe I've even done it to the detriment of what my life could be. I'm beginning to wonder if I had come home, would I have saved myself what just happened to me? I'll never know, but what I do know, is I'll never keep myself away from Blizzard Bluff once more. "It won't happen again."

  S
he smiles, her lips curling at the edges. It reaches her eyes and for just a moment, I can forget about all the devastation my failed wedding has caused. Instead of focusing on all the things that have gone wrong, I can focus on what’s right.

  Like what my next few days look like. “I’m still staying at the cabin, right? Maggie’s okay with that? I’ll be home for Christmas,” I rush to reassure them. “I just need some time on my own, in a place that I can feel comfortable, without expectations of being strong. I need to fall apart.”

  “We can be there to help pick you back up,” Mom insists.

  “Teenage me would’ve loved that, but adult me needs to figure this out on her own. She needs to lick her wounds and find out who the hell she is without Camden.”

  Her shoulders fall slightly. “Maggie is fine with you staying as long as you need to. She’s got someone going to check it out in the event of what may be a huge storm. They’re calling for either the storm of the century, or nothing. You know how it is.”

  I do. It's been this way every single year. It's always the same, but the results can be different. Kind of like how life is, but I'm ready to face it.

  No matter what it is.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  LUCAS

  Laying in bed the next morning, I read the forecast. It’s the first thing I do after waking up every day. Partially to try and prepare myself for what I’ll be facing. It’s hard day in and day out to go out in the heat, or cold in this case and work my ass off knowing we’re barely making it. It’s enough to drive me crazy, but I have no choice. I have to keep going. As I read a weather alert, I groan loudly. There seems to be more confidence a big storm will be coming. Up to a foot of snow, with freezing temps, and very high winds. Which means there will be even more work after it goes through. I’m already exhausted, and now it’s just going to get worse.