The Asheville Christmas Tradition (Carolina Christmas #4)

1. Noelle

“It’s time for my favorite tradition!” Aunt Elizabeth—now simply called Bitsy by the family—stood at the head of the long farmhouse table, bringing the chatter, clatter, and platter-passing of an eighteen-person gathering to a sudden silence. “The Gratitude Attitude of Thanksgiving Dinner!”

“Brace yourself, Jace.” Noelle leaned a little closer to her husband. “This one requires a live performance.”

From the kids table, Noelle’s stepdaughter sat up with interest. “What’s the Gratitude Attitude?”

“One of Bitsy’s favorite traditions, Cassie,” Noelle told the little girl she’d grown to love with every cell in her body. “And this one is sacred.”

Bitsy smiled at them, then her gaze moved over the many faces of friends and family, all spread around two large tables that filled the dining room and spilled into the living room of a sprawling Blue Ridge Mountain cabin.

“All traditions are sacred,” Uncle Sonny told Cassie. “And for my wife”—he beamed at Bitsy—“they’re usually a lot of fun, too.”

“Exactly,” Bitsy said. “But no silly jokes. This tradition is serious.”

“How do you play this game, Aunt Bitsy?” Sawyer, Noelle’s rambunctious seven-year-old nephew, asked.

“You don’t play anything,” Bitsy said. “You stand up and share the one thing—or two or even three, if you’ve been blessed beyond measure—that you are most grateful for this year.”

“Fun!” Sawyer announced, his soft chocolate curls bouncing as he shot to his feet. “Can I start?”

“Yes, you can start.” Bitsy laughed, sliding back into her seat. “Anyone can stand when they’re ready, but no one can duck out.”

“You mean ‘turkey’ out, Aunt Bitsy,” Sawyer joked, getting a cascade of giggles from the kids’ table. “Okay. I am most thankful for?—”

“You can’t say bears, video games, or something dumb,” Bradley, one of his two older brothers, muttered. “You heard Uncle Sonny. It’s sacred.”

Sawyer held up two hands, shooting a side-eye that said he could do serious if he had to.

“I’m grateful for…Jackie.” He pointed to his eleven-month-old baby sister, currently dipping her finger in a small mound of sweet potatoes on her high chair tray. “’Cause she made me not the youngest anymore. And Mom finally has a girl in our family.”

“Aww.” Noelle’s sister, Eve, pressed her hands to her cheeks as her eyes crinkled with a smile directed to her boy. “That’s sweet, honey.”

“That’s soft, Soy Sauce,” James scoffed at his brother, but stood and cleared his throat with the air of firstborn leadership, despite the fact that he was only twelve. “I’ll go next. I’m thankful for…” He shifted his gaze to his father, David, who held a spoon in front of Jackie even though she obviously preferred the finger-in-potatoes method. “Dad not being a neurosurgeon anymore because now he’s my soccer coach and we went all the way to the county finals this year! Woohoo!”

That got a big reaction from the crowd, as David and Eve shared a happy look over the baby between them.

“Leaving neurosurgery was a risk,” David said, using his napkin to dab at some food on Jackie’s rosy cheeks. “But my gratitude goes to my wonderful wife, who persuaded me to leave a sixty-hour-a-week job and take over a family practice. I have never been happier or—” Jackie swatted his arm and a drop of potatoes splattered on him. “Or more covered in puréed vegetables.”

“I’ll go next!” Cassie stood as the laughter died down. As always, she commanded all the attention in the room. She may only be eight, but Noelle’s stepdaughter was a presence, fearless and spunky, and she loved any chance to perform. “I’m thankful for my goat, Sprinkles, of course, and my new stepmommy…” She smiled at Noelle. “I love you, Miss Noelle.”

Touched, Noelle blew her a kiss, tamping down the tendril of disappointment that Cassie simply couldn’t, or wouldn’t, call her Mommy. The “step” part was always there, and she still addressed her as “Miss Noelle,” as she had since the day they met last Christmas.

After a few requests, Noelle stopped asking, and Jace assured her it would have to happen naturally.

They’d only been married for six months, so they agreed it was a big change to ask a child, even if she didn’t remember her mother, who’d died when Cassie was a toddler.

A few others chimed in to share their gratitude lists, all of them managing to mention something fun and sweet.

To a person, they revealed an important fact about this blended family—that the love was genuine. Also, it was clear they’d made the most out of this past year when the triplet Chambers sisters moved to live near each other in Asheville, North Carolina.

As Noelle listened, she couldn’t help releasing a soft sigh of satisfaction and sharing a look with Eve and Angie, who had to be thinking the same thing.

A year ago, they’d had Thanksgiving dinner at Eve’s home in Charlotte, just the sisters and Eve’s family. That night, they’d received a cryptic email from their beloved Aunt Elizabeth asking them to spend December at the Asheville family cabin, where they hadn’t been for twenty-five years.

During that one month, while living together and helping their aunt prepare to marry Sonny MacPherson, the lives, hearts, and homes of all three of the sisters had changed. And all for the better.

Moving around the table, Sonny’s daughter, Caroline, stated the obvious—that she was grateful for Tyler, her now six-month baby boy, and Joshua, her nine-year-old son. Her husband, Nate, agreed, and added that he was also happy that Red Bridge Farm, the gorgeous homestead owned by Sonny and Bitsy, was thriving under his management.

Next to Caro, her sister, Hannah, a bubbly brunette with a kind heart and an easy laugh, gave a wistful smile to her boyfriend, Keith.

“I’m grateful for…” She hesitated, clearly not sure what she wanted to say or if she should say it. “This man right here,” she finished, reaching toward Keith, who looked a little uncomfortable with the attention. “Nearly eleven years of…”

Noelle held her breath, waiting for Hannah to finish. The two women had gotten so close in the past year, and Noelle knew her friend struggled with Keith’s unwillingness to make a lifetime commitment after eleven years of… dating .

“Happiness,” Hannah finally said, leaning closer to her boyfriend. “How about you, Keith?”

“Oh, well.” The burly redhead brushed self-consciously at his beard. “I’m just a good ol’ boy grateful for my truck and a good huntin’ season.”

Everyone gave a polite laugh, but Noelle’s heart cracked a little when she saw Hannah’s bright smile waver. A quick glance around the table confirmed that others noticed, too.

“Triplets next,” Bitsy said, pointing to Eve. “In birth order, please.”

“At the risk of sounding like everyone else in my family,” Eve said, her blue eyes glistening as she looked at David, her sons, and then the dumpling in the high chair, “I’m grateful that we moved from Charlotte to be close to this amazing family, and that David is home every evening and on the weekends. And I’m deeply grateful that a young girl named Gabby made a decision that gave us Jacqueline Elizabeth.”

She leaned over and kissed her baby’s pale golden curls as the room let out a collective, “Aww,” for the miracle of her birth. With her blue eyes and platinum curls, the almost one-year-old Jackie looked so much like Eve, it was easy to forget she’d been adopted.

“And you, Angie?” Bitsy asked the second of the three Chambers sisters.

“I have so much gratitude, I could take the rest of the night,” Angie joked, butterscotch waves tumbling over her shoulders as she looked from side to side to include everyone. “First, I still can’t believe I have a job in the curators department at the Biltmore Estate—my first real job other than being Brooke’s mother?—”

“Which you nailed,” her teenage daughter chimed in.

“Thank you, honey. Second, I’m so thankful for this beautiful cabin…” She gestured toward the sun-filled rooms of a two-story mountain retreat that had been in their family for more than a hundred years. “This has become a real home for a couple of California transplants and Brooke and I couldn’t be happier here.”

“And to think we almost lost this place but for your tenacity,” Eve said, pointing a playful finger at Angie. “Talk about something to be grateful for.”

“Amen,” Angie agreed. “But I’m not quite done.” She squished her features into a typically expressive Angie face. “I probably shouldn’t say this, but I have to. I’m grateful my divorce is final. Probably not supposed to be happy, but I am.”

They cheered with her, since everyone agreed the end of Angie’s rocky marriage was a very good thing indeed.

“Oh, and last but never least”—she lifted her glass toward Brooke—“I’m so thankful for the absolute best friend and darling daughter a woman could have.”

“Sweet, Mom,” Brooke replied, her eyes suspiciously damp as if her mother’s speech had truly touched her. “I love you, too.”

“What about you, Miss Noelle?” Cassie called out, clapping a little as all eyes shifted toward Noelle. “I bet you’re grateful you married my dad and got me.”

Noelle grinned at the little girl. “Yes, yes, and yes, Cass.” She reached for Jace’s hand. “Most grateful for my new family.”

“Well, you know that’s what I’m grateful for,” Jace said, bringing her hand to his lips to kiss her knuckles. “A soul mate, a mother to Cassie, my best friend, and…” He winked. “We finally made an animal lover out of you.”

“Hard to live with a veterinarian and a goat-whisperer and not become one,” she said on a laugh. “Yep, I feel buried in blessings this year.”

“And even more next year,” Cassie added in a strange stage-whisper, looking down at her plate like no one would notice she’d said that.

“I’m sure next year will be amazing, too,” Noelle said quickly. “I’m expanding Mountain Muse and bringing in new artists to the gallery.”

But Noelle knew the growth of her Asheville art gallery wasn’t what Cassie was talking about.

She wanted a baby brother or sister—almost as much as Noelle wanted to give her one.

But that had not happened yet, and since she and her two sisters would turn forty-one on Christmas Day, it might never happen.

Maybe sensing Noelle’s momentary discomfort, Bitsy jumped in with her gratitudes, and Sonny proclaimed their first year of marriage as the happiest either of them had ever experienced.

The glow during the dinner lasted until the last plate was cleared and the family regrouped in the sunroom. They watched the kids run around outside with Lucky, Sonny’s golden retriever, while the sun turned the Blue Ridge Mountains into breathtaking shades of silver and gold.

In the kitchen, Noelle helped her sisters arrange the pumpkin and apple pies, the three of them joking around. When Noelle heard the front door of the farmhouse open, she looked into the great room, catching sight of Hannah coming in, looking much sadder than she had at dinner.

She slipped out of a jacket and stood in front of the fire, letting out a deep sigh that didn’t fit the Thanksgiving Day vibe at all.

Still holding a dishtowel, Noelle walked across the wide-planked floors, ready to offer love and support to a woman who’d become as much a sister as a friend. Although they were only related through marriage—Hannah and Caro’s father was married to Noelle’s aunt—they were all close, but Noelle and Hannah had forged a special relationship.

“You okay?” Noelle asked.

“Oh, yes, of course,” Hannah answered, planting a sunny smile that didn’t quite make it all the way to her soft brown eyes. “Keith had to go.”

“Before dessert?”

“Yeah, he, uh, had?—”

“Enough of this family?” Noelle joked, trying to lighten the awkward moment.

“No, he wants to be up at five to go hunting, so…” Her voice trailed off.

“Gotcha,” Noelle said quickly. “Well, you can have twice as much pie.”

“Just what I don’t need.” But her humor rang hollow as she put on her “everything is wonderful” face that she frequently wore when the subject of Keith got too personal.

“Miss Noelle!”

Noelle turned to see Cassie tearing across the room. “You’re it!” the little girl squealed as she jabbed Noelle in the arm.

“I’m it? I’m not even playing! Who’s going to serve pie if I’m it?”

She giggled and waved her hands in the air, oozing joy and childish enthusiasm. “Then you’re it, Aunt Hannah!”

“Okay, I’m it!” Hannah took off with the speed and skill of a second-grade teacher who was no stranger to playing tag.

Just then, Jace came up behind Noelle and wrapped his arms around her.

“You are it, Mrs. Fleming.” He pressed his lips to her hair. “If ‘ it ’ is beautiful, smart, and you control access to pie.”

Laughing, she turned in his arms and looked up at the handsome face of the man she’d loved for…well, since they’d been childhood fishing pals on this very mountain and each other’s crush.

They’d spent twenty-five years apart, and in those years, Jace had loved, married, and lost, becoming a young widower and single father after his first wife passed away.

But all that pain was behind him now and her husband wore a perpetual smile these days, whether they were hanging as a family or he was busy caring for the cows, horses, goats, and llamas all over this rural area outside of Asheville.

“You all right?” he asked with a slight frown.

“Of course,” she said. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you got a little quiet after the Gratitude Attitude thing.” He searched her face, and glanced at the crowded room behind them. “Let’s talk tonight,” he whispered, adding a kiss to her forehead as a round of raucous laughter rose up. “First, the hordes want pumpkin pie. And I include myself in that.”

She sighed into his arms, knowing that she could hide her emotions from anyone but Jace. Of course he knew what was bothering her and when they got home, he’d listen and tell her what she already knew. One, she didn’t need for Cassie to call her anything—their love was secure. Two, she didn’t need to have a baby—her family was complete and perfect.

And three, he’d tell her that Noelle Chambers Fleming would have to stop being an overachiever. She’d achieved plenty.

But would she listen?

“And….she’s asleep.” Noelle pushed up from the bed, closing a well-loved copy of The Very Hungry Goat.

Leaning against the doorjamb, Jace waited until she reached him before tapping the light switch to darken the room. “Didn’t take long tonight. Thanksgiving wore her out.”

“Wore me out, too,” Noelle said, accepting the hug he wrapped her in.

“Too tired for a fireside nightcap?” Jace asked.

“Never.” Noelle leaned into a kiss.

A few minutes later, he had a lively fire going and two small glasses of sherry poured, a tradition they’d started on their honeymoon in the Caribbean. There, they’d shared the drink on their balcony overlooking the water, but here, especially once the weather cooled, they were usually in front of the living room fire.

Jace’s spacious ranch had become Noelle’s home after they married last spring, and she was as comfortable here as she’d been in an Upper East Side apartment in New York. She’d left her big city life behind with remarkable ease, with Bitsy reminding her all the while that God opens doors when He wants a person to walk through them.

Well, He obviously wanted Noelle Chambers to sell her apartment—it went in one day—and quit her job at Sotheby’s, which she’d done easily when her boss showed up at Bitsy and Sonny’s New Year’s Eve wedding to demand she cut her family time short.

A year later, Noelle was as comfortable in the barn wearing work boots as she used to be strolling down Fifth Avenue in designer heels. And no place in her new life was nicer than right here on the sectional, nestled against the man she loved.

Noelle took her first sip, let the liquid warm her throat, and snuggled closer to Jace, both of them under a fluffy blanket.

“Okay, what’s buggin’ Miss Noelle?” he asked after taking his own sip.

“That I’m called Miss Noelle,” she admitted glumly. “I know, I know. It’ll happen organically, but…when? I want to be her mommy.”

“She’ll get there, I promise. It’s a matter of time.”

“And I also want to be…someone else’s mommy, but…” She made a face. “That isn’t happening too quickly, either.”

He nodded. “I picked up Cassie’s comment at dinner,” he said. “But we have to remember that she’s only eight?—”

“Sometimes I think she’s eighteen, she’s so mature.”

“I know, but she’s not. And she shouldn’t have overheard us talking about having a baby a few weeks ago,” he said. “This isn’t a decision we can let her make.”

“This isn’t a decision , Jace,” she said softly, staring into the fire. “This is a desire, and a strong one. I really do want to have a baby.”

“And I do, too,” he said without hesitation. “My position from day one has never wavered. Nothing could make me happier. All we can do is give it to God, relax, and don’t let it—or Cassie—control your thinking.”

She nodded, considering the advice. “The giving it to God part is new for me, as you know.”

She hadn’t come into this marriage with faith in a higher power—if anything, having lost her parents at fifteen had left her fairly convinced that no God would let three teenage girls experience such grief.

But out of love and respect for Jace, she’d tiptoed back into church and the message was starting to make sense. Still, she wasn’t a “let go and let God” kind of woman. She was a “take control and call the shots” kind of woman.

“I like to make things happen my way,” she added.

“Ya think?” he cracked. “But beyond checking the calendar and making sure we have enough time to be alone, there’s not a lot we can do to control the process.”

“I know,” she said on a sigh, picking up her cell phone when it vibrated. She squinted at the text from the woman who owned a bookstore on the same block as her gallery, letting out a little moan as she read.

“What’s wrong?” Jace asked.

“Just another one of the retailers in town who turned down my invitation to lunch,” she told him. “I’m really trying hard to connect with the small business community but no one seems to want to connect with me. Which is another thing I can’t make go my way—people.”

He chuckled. “Well, any person who doesn’t want to have lunch with you is crazy.”

She smiled at the compliment. “Well, they were crazy—about the former owner, and they’re not happy she’s gone. And I guess I have this reputation as a New Yorker who blew in and hasn’t paid dues or lived here very long. I don’t know what to do, but I do feel like a real outsider in what is a shockingly small and tight community.”

He considered that, nodding. “You have to pay dues.”

“How? I’m happy to, but I don’t know how.”

“I do!” He turned and snapped his fingers, pointing at her. “Chair the tree lighting committee. No one wants that job and it will connect you with everyone in town.”

“The Christmas tree lighting that we went to last year?” she asked. “That was when Sonny asked my aunt to marry him.”

“I also believe it was the site of our first kiss in twenty-five years,” he whispered, closing in for another. “Pure Christmas magic, as I recall.”

“Mmm.” She smiled and kissed him back, but her mind was on that tree lighting. “What’s involved in the tree lighting and shouldn’t it be planned by now?”

“I think they’ve moved it back because the pizza shop owner who has chaired it for the last ten years had to drop out due to health issues,” he told her. “They need a local business owner to head the committee that coordinates it, but no one has stepped up yet. No one wants the role because…well, there are strong personalities involved.”

She sat a little straighter, visions of tree lights dancing in her head.

“I’m a strong personality.”

He snorted. “Understatement alert.”

“Doing something like that would be great for business and connections. Not to mention that there’s nothing I love more than running a committee and planning an event. I did a zillion of them for Sotheby’s. Jace!” She poked his arm. “You are a genius!”

“Just be warned—you might have to tap dance around some powerful people, namely, Edna Covington. She funds the whole thing every year.”

“Then give me my tap shoes.” She reached to the table for her phone. “Who do I call? Edna who? How do I make this happen?”

He laughed and eased the phone away. “I’ll call Tony Jessup tomorrow. He’s the police and fire department PR person on the committee, and I know him from church. He told me they were trying to find a local businessperson to volunteer, but so close to Christmas? Everyone they asked had to say no.”

“Noelle Fleming doesn’t say no,” she joked— half joked—picking up the phone again. “What’s it called? The Asheville Christmas Tree Lighting?” She tapped the screen, ready to search for more information. “Oh, we could do better than that.”

He laughed softly. “Don’t try too hard to change things. There’s a reason they call it a tradition, Noelle. And, like Sonny said, some of them are sacred.”

“I’m not going to desecrate anything,” she said. “Just improve it and make it…” She gave a sly grin. “Perfect.”

That made him laugh, but she quieted him with a kiss and one led to another and, pretty soon, she forgot about everything but this man she loved with her heart and soul.

She couldn’t control what Cassie called her, and she certainly couldn’t control getting pregnant. But a little local tree lighting ceremony? Now that she could bend to her will.

How hard could it be?