The Christmas Tree Page 20

  He strode toward her, looking as sturdy and capable as ever. The muscles in her back loosened and she released a deep breath of relief. She hadn’t even been aware that she was worried about his absence until he’d showed up.

  Meeting him halfway up the path, she wrapped her arms around his waist. “Where have you been? I called but your phone wasn’t on.” She stepped back and noticed for the first time that he didn’t look well. He hadn’t shaved that morning and from what she could see of his face between his stubble and his sunglasses, he was a shade paler than usual. “Are you sick?”

  “Only by my own doing.” He rubbed his jaw with his left hand. “Like a jerk I went home and drank too much last night.”

  “Why?”

  “It doesn’t really matter. I’m just glad we’re almost done here.”

  “It does matter.” She reached for his right hand, jerked back when he flinched. Slowly, she raised his hand up. It was swollen and purple around the knuckles, with a couple of scabbed-over scrapes crossing his fingers. “Oh my God. Is this from punching George? I didn’t think it was this bad when we were eating dinner.”

  Colt released a deep sigh and took his hand back. “It wasn’t this bad at dinner. It got this way after I punched a hole in my dad’s wall.”

  She searched Colt’s face. She couldn’t identify what he was feeling, leaving her off balance. Colt had always been an open book. The only thing she could clearly see was the outline of the tree reflected in his sunglasses. The lenses hid his emotions. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No. It’s the same stuff, different day. I’m fine.” He threw an arm around her shoulders and started for the tree. “I’d like to finish this up and then hide in a dark room until whatever’s in my head stops trying to gouge my eyes out from within.” Slowly bending over, he picked some ornaments out of a bag.

  “Of course.” She absently clicked the end of her pen. “Uh, Colt? I know you’re not feeling well, but I have a problem I was hoping you could help with.”

  “What’s up?” He hung the last of the ornaments in his hand and went back to the bag for another bunch.

  “I received a notice of condemnation on the house this morning. It says the city will take over my property in thirty days, and they’re kicking me out as of tonight.”

  He paused halfway over the bag before slowly straightening. “What? That doesn’t make sense. The city doesn’t just go around handing out condemnation notices without there being some complaint of a public nuisance. Have any of your neighbors complained to you about the condition of the property?”

  “No. My closest neighbor is a quarter of a mile away. The house isn’t pretty, but I don’t think it’s at eyesore level yet.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head to one side.

  Damn those sunglasses. She couldn’t read him at all. “You didn’t happen to mention anything bad about the condition of the house when you were talking to the planning commission yesterday, did you?” she asked.

  “No,” he said sharply. “And I wasn’t talking to the planning commission per se. Just some guys I know who work on it. I was asking for a favor. How did you know I was there?”

  “Jerome saw you. It wasn’t a secret, was it?” She walked up to him and touched his arm. “I’m not trying to snoop in your business. But if you let something slip that caught the interest of the board, I’d like to know what it is so I can better fight against it. I won’t be mad. No one knows better than me that accidents happen.”

  “And I believe I said before that accidents don’t just happen. People make them happen.”

  She drew back. “I thought you’d forgiven me for your brother’s truck.” The pressure on her chest made it difficult to draw in a deep breath. She had hoped Colt’s Mr. Hyde was gone for good, but apparently she kept bringing it out.

  He pressed his thumb and forefinger around the bridge of his nose, bumping the sunglasses with the motion. “I did. I have.” Sighing, he lowered his hand. “I just don’t feel very well right now and you accusing me of getting your house condemned isn’t making me feel better.”

  “I’m sorry.” She wrapped her arms around her waist and stared over his shoulder.

  “No, I’m sorry. I seem to be sorry a lot these days.” He stared at her for a beat. “Let’s go sit on the bench and talk. I have an idea I want to propose to you.”

  She nodded and followed him to the bench, leaving several inches between their bodies when she sat down. She looked at Colt but he was staring at the tree, avoiding her gaze. His large body was sprawled on the bench, his shoulders drooping. A pinprick of unease rose in her stomach.

  “When we first met,” he started, “you were on your way out of town. I know this past week it hasn’t been easy for you being away from your home.”

  “When I was worried about selling my business, I was anxious about being away from Ann Arbor.” She tilted her head to one side and pursed her lips. “Where are you going with this?”

  “And when we remodel your grandmother’s house, you’ll be stuck here away from your home for a good month or so.”

  “I wouldn’t exactly consider it being stuck . . .” The pinprick in her stomach widened to a pit.

  “You have a life you want to get back to, don’t you? Friends? A new job to find in Ann Arbor?” He finally turned his head to look at her. The sun glinted off his shades, the outline of his eyes barely visible beneath.

  She frowned. “Well, of course, but—” Her words caught in her throat when his whole body tensed.

  “Of course,” he repeated. He blew out a deep breath, then pasted on a smile. Either his stubble was too thick or the smile wasn’t big enough, but Sadie couldn’t see his dimples anymore. She swallowed.

  “So,” he said, “I have a proposition for you. I’ll buy the house from you. You can have the cash up front and won’t have to put your life on hold during a remodel. What do you think?”

  She opened her mouth, closed it. Her stomach could have been in quicksand for all the sinking it was doing. After a second she tried again. “I think that is the very same offer that David gave me and that you advised me not to take.” Her voice sounded like cement being ground into gravel. She cleared her throat.

  Colt swung his head back to the tree. “I know. I think I gave you bad advice based on . . . well, you know how I feel about Carelli. I’ll pay you what Carelli offered plus twenty-five percent of the profit after I flip it. How does that sound?”

  She closed her eyes. Heat swept through her and she clenched her fists tight so she wouldn’t lash out and smack the man. Her house just happened to get condemned right when her neighborhood was rezoned for more development. She hadn’t wanted to put those two events together when Jerome had told her, but she couldn’t avoid the conclusion any longer. Did Colt really think she was that stupid? She huffed out a harsh chuckle. She had been that stupid.

  “Was this your plan all along?” She lifted her face to the sun, its warmth drying the wetness behind her closed lids.

  “What are you talking about?” Colt was staring at her, but she didn’t turn to look at him. What would be the point? He hid himself from her. She obviously didn’t know how to read this man at all.

  “I’m talking about you needing to best Carelli in this pissing match you have going on. I’m talking about you making this offer after my house gets condemned so I’ll feel like I have no choice but to accept.” She opened her eyes, saw his clenched jaw. “And I’m talking about you never truly forgiving me. This is your way of getting even.”

  “By paying you an exorbitant amount of money for a ramshackle house? If I waited a month, I could probably pick it up at auction for pennies on the dollar. As it is, I’m taking a big risk paying you yesterday’s fair market value in the hopes of fighting the condemnation proceedings.” Colt pushed his sunglasses onto the top of his head, a lock of chestnut hair getting caught behind the frame, poking straight up in the air. His eyes squinted, from the sunlig
ht or from anger, she didn’t know, but his face showed no other emotion.

  “I know about the redevelopment plan.” Sadie eyed him narrowly, held her breath. A muscle twitched at his temple but he gave no response. He didn’t deny it. She furiously clicked the button at the top of her pen. “Well? Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?”

  “What do you want me to say?” he growled. “That I have no idea what you’re talking about? I don’t, but I can tell by the look on your face that whatever I say you won’t believe, so why bother. I don’t like spitting in the wind. And that pretty much sums up our relationship to date.” He looked down at her hand and scowled. Snatching her pen, he chucked it at the tree. “And I hate this damned clicking!”

  She ignored his fit of pique and focused on the important part. “What are you talking about? Until this morning, I thought our relationship was going fine. You’re the one who messed it up.”

  He rose to his feet and leaned over her, placing one hand on either side of her shoulders on the back of the bench, caging her in. “I was trying to do the right thing here. Give you the ability to go back to your life, let you make the choice of your own free will whether you’d want to stay here or not. I thought maybe . . .” He turned his head away. “Obviously I was wrong about this.” He straightened up, his focus still somewhere over her shoulder. “Let me know if you accept my offer. It’s good for a week.” He began to walk away.

  “Wait!” She didn’t know what more she wanted from him. A confession, so she would stop feeling so conflicted and could just accept the loss? Another attempt to make her believe his innocence so she could feel hope? Not that she would allow herself to hope. It all just made too much sense. Her eyes darted all around until they landed on his back. He stood still, body tense, waiting for her to say something. “What about the rest of the ornaments?” She bit back a groan. Of all the things she wanted to say, that was what had to fall out of her mouth? She couldn’t care less right now about the tree.

  Colt cocked his head, giving her his profile, letting her see half a scowl. “There are enough damn ornaments on that tree. We’re done here.” Then he walked away.

  Each step he took was a sharp stab of pain to her heart. Colt got in his truck, slammed the door, and drove down the street, out of sight.

  She knew she was right about him. The coincidences were just too big.

  She gathered up the last bag of ornaments and put it in her car. Looking across the street at Allison’s café, she thought about going over, but she wasn’t ready to talk yet and reveal what a fool she’d been where Colt was concerned. She sat in the car staring at nothing for five minutes before heading to her grandmother’s house to pack her things.

  If she was really honest with herself, she didn’t want to give Allison the opportunity to tell her she was wrong about Colt. This whole town thought he was a stand-up guy.

  She couldn’t be wrong about what he’d done. Because if she was, she had just ruined her chance at a really great relationship. And that, she simply couldn’t accept.

  * * *

  “Honey, I don’t care what your evidence shows, you’re wrong about him.” Allison sat sideways in a big suede lounge chair, her slippered feet hanging over one of the armrests. They sat in Allison’s living room, the sparse furnishings making the combined living and dining room seem even larger. In one corner stood an enormously round Christmas tree, its elegant purple and gold decorations in stark contrast to its squat shape. It was like a pig wearing Armani.

  Sadie had stopped by the café after packing her bags, told her friend about getting kicked out of her house and asked for a hotel recommendation. Allison had insisted she come stay with her instead. It was near midnight and the two of them sat in their pajamas with empty cups of hot chocolate on their laps, the almost empty box of cookies in Sadie’s, as they turned over the day’s events.

  Sadie sighed. It was as she feared. Of course everyone would believe in Colt. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “It all just makes too much sense.” She raised her hand and pointed her index finger in the air. “One, Colt has a grudge against both David and me.” She lifted her middle finger. “Two, he gets my deal with David to fall through.” Allison raised an eyebrow and Sadie hedged. “Well, he convinced me to not accept it. Three”—she needed to use her other hand to pull her ring finger up straight so it sat in line with the others—“three, he talks with the planning commission and the very next day my house is condemned. Four, Jerome hears that my neighborhood has been rezoned for a big development.” She dropped her hand and clenched it in her lap. “The conclusion I came to was only logical. Right?”

  Allison released a sigh, her flannel-covered chest heaving. “Oh, it’s all very logical, I’m sure. But what does your gut tell you?”

  “My gut?” Sadie scowled. “My gut only tells me if it needs some antacid. It doesn’t talk to me otherwise. I make decisions with my brain.”

  “That’s your problem.” Allison smiled triumphantly as though she had just won the debate.

  “Using my head is my problem? I think there are a lot more problems caused in this world from people not thinking things through.”

  “Honey, I didn’t mean that you should act impulsively. I know that’s not who you are. But you have to trust in your emotional IQ, too,” Allison said. “Don’t discount gut instinct so quickly.”

  “Instinct?” Sadie snorted. “It was instinct that kept my mother in a bad marriage for years too long. Even though all the facts pointed to my dad cheating on her, she just wouldn’t believe it. Her heart told her he loved her.” She shook her head and brushed moisture away from her eyes. “That’s what following your gut gets you. Years wasted on a cheating husband. And my business—the numbers told me I should have sold a couple of years ago, but my emotions were invested in it. So I hung on, hoping things would turn around. No, my life would have been much better if everyone acted more rationally.”

  Allison nudged Sadie’s arm with her fuzzy foot. “How old were you when your parents got divorced?”

  “Eleven.” She ran her finger around the rim of her mug. “That summer I was here with my grandmother when the divorce proceedings were happening. My parents wanted me out of the way for all that.”

  “So you had eleven years of having your father in your house. I’m not saying your mother made the right or wrong decision, but having your dad with you growing up must have meant something. So maybe her hoping her marriage would get better bought you some extra time with your dad.”

  Sadie snorted. “That is one heck of a silver lining you found.” Resting her head on the back of her chair, she stared at the ceiling. “Can I have one more second to wallow in self-pity? I promise, I’ll get over my daddy issues then.”

  “I’ll be generous and give you five.” Allison tipped her wrist up and looked at an imaginary watch. “Okay, time’s up. No more holding Colt responsible for your father’s mistakes.”

  Sadie’s jaw dropped open. “I’m not! These are completely different situations. I don’t suspect Colt of cheating on me, even though he sometimes does have women hanging off of him.” She thought of Connie pressed against Colt and frowned. “I suspect him of using me to further his business, and get even with me and David at the same time.”

  “It’s still a question of trust. You don’t trust Colt even though he’s given you no reason not to.” Allison shook her head, her blond curls bouncing. Sadie squirmed under her look of disappointment.

  “No reason?” Her voice came out louder than usual when she was defensive. “I’ve listed the reasons for you.”

  “And there are no other explanations for his actions? No other possibilities as to why he was talking to the planning commission or how your house was condemned?” She snorted. “He is a contractor. He probably talks to the planning commission every other week.”

  Sadie rubbed her forehead. The low throb of pain that had been pulsing behind her temples all day kicked up a notch. “It’s done. I foll
owed the facts and drew my conclusions. If I turn out to be wrong, and that’s a very big if, it’s over just the same.” She sighed. “I didn’t just burn that bridge. I launched a nuclear weapon at it.”

  “Hmm.” Allison shook her head, pursed her lips. She swung her legs over the side of the chair and stood up, stretching her curvy body. “One thing you need to remember. It’s Christmastime. The season of hope. If you and Colt are meant to be, that bridge will still be standing.”

  Sadie got to her feet as well, refolding the chenille throw that had been warming her lap, brushing cookie crumbs off her pajamas. “Meant to be? You, my friend, are a hopeless romantic. Colt and I had barely begun dating and you were hearing wedding bells.” Her heart thudded heavily in her chest. Thinking such things after knowing someone only a week was ridiculous.

  But she could picture it, she and Colt sitting on a back porch, hair gray, hands clasped, watching the sun go down. When she remembered what she had accused him of that morning, the vision of an older Colt faded away, leaving her alone on the porch. God, she almost hoped that she was right about him using her. The pain of his betrayal might be preferable to finding out that she had completely misjudged him.

  “Wedding bells, Christmas bells, they’re easily mistaken,” Allison said, her eyes twinkling. She strode across the room and pulled the plug on the lights to her tree. “I can’t wait to see the tree-lighting ceremony tomorrow. Everyone will be there.” She looked at Sadie significantly.

  “You mean I’ll have to face Colt.” She swallowed the sour taste in her mouth.

  Allison came back to stand before her and rubbed her hands up and down Sadie’s arms. “Christmas is also a time of new beginnings. Fresh starts. I think that’s something you and Colt could use.”

  Sadie shook her head. “My fresh start is going to begin when I get the heck out of this town.”

  She didn’t tell Allison as they walked up the stairs together that watching a town fade in her rearview mirror was never going to hurt so much as it would when she left Pineville.