The Asheville Christmas Tradition (Carolina Christmas #4)

15. Hannah

Silence.

Oh, the sound of achingly beautiful, utterly serene, and perfectly still…silence.

Hannah closed her classroom door after the last little darling hugged her goodbye for winter break, promising to be good for Santa Claus—the battle over who believed and who didn’t finally fully their parents’ problem—and now it was over until the next semester.

Usually, this was a joyous time of freedom for Hannah, topped only by the last day of school. But that goodbye was bittersweet. She loved these kids and always hated to hand them over to third grade. This break? Easy and much needed.

She was so ready to…

She swallowed a lump that always seemed to catch in her throat when she thought too much about her feelings these days. She still wasn’t ready to celebrate.

Walking through the classroom, she fluttered a piece of tinsel dangling from a desk and smiled at the small mountain of gifts her students had lovingly placed under the artificial tree by the blackboard. She knew there were mugs and candies, hats and mittens, some notebooks, a bottle of perfume, and probably ten candles in that collection, many wrapped with the sloppy but loving hands of her students.

On a sigh, she dropped to the linoleum floor next to the tree, picking up one Santa-covered present with Layla Collins’s careful writing on the paper.

I love you, Ms. MacPherson! Merry Christmas!

“I love you, too, Layla,” she whispered, hating that tears stung her lids. What was wrong with her? She should be dancing with freedom and…freedom.

She had that in spades now. No kids, no lesson plans, no long recesses, no field trips…nobody.

“Stop it,” she chided herself, pushing up because she wasn’t in the mood to sit here and open all these presents right now. Better to take them home in a few bags and share them with Caro or the triplets, since no one needed that many candles.

Turning to look around the empty classroom, she spied a parka hanging over a desk in the back row.

Nick or Dan, of course. They both had been sitting back there while that last movie played—she’d run out of lessons and holiday game ideas. Walking toward it, she lifted the jacket, recognizing it as Nick Venema’s.

How did he not notice he’d forgotten it when he went?—

She heard the door click and turned with a smile, fully expecting Mrs. Venema and her sometimes wayward but always good-hearted child.

But that’s not who was standing there. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe.

“Keith,” she whispered, a little surprised at the way her stomach fluttered and tensed at the sight of him. Oh, dear. Was she that lonely?

Well, it was the first time she’d seen him since the breakup. He’d texted once—about something she’d left at his house—and didn’t reply to her answer. But other than that? They hadn’t spoken in well over a week, maybe ten days.

“Hey. I figured it would be quiet in here.”

She glanced around, mostly because it was hard to look right at him. Keith looked wrecked. Like he’d been on a bender or a long journey or…had he been crying? His auburn waves were tousled, his reddish beard grown in.

“Yeah, it is. The old ‘end of semester silence,’” she said, feeling awkward to be talking about that, but not sure what she should say. “I was just enjoying it.”

“Sorry to bother you.”

“You’re…not.” She knew she sounded hesitant. But why was he here? “Are you okay?”

“Oh, sure,” he scoffed. “I’m just peachy.”

That comment would normally be delivered with a sarcastic edge, but this time she heard nothing but pain in his voice. It made her stomach tighten even more.

“I know, it’s…a hard time of year.”

“No, Hannah,” he said, taking a step into the classroom. “It’s a hard time of life .”

She swallowed and nodded, digging her fingers into the parka’s fur collar. “I know. I’m…” She wasn’t sorry, though, and she wouldn’t say that. “I’m sure it is.”

“I don’t think you’re sure of anything,” he said, again with a lot of agony in every word.

“That’s fair,” she acknowledged. “This is certainly a time of…self-discovery.”

He nodded and took a few more steps, his gaze leveled on her, his always a little ruddy complexion looking brighter than usual.

“What have you found?” he asked softly.

For a second, she thought he meant the jacket. Then she realized he was referring to self-discovery. And the question sounded deeply sincere.

As she considered how to answer, he came even closer, halfway down the center aisle between the desks. He looked so big in here, a room built for tiny people.

“Not too much,” she finally said. “I had to get through the semester and then there’s the holidays. I guess I’ll discover myself in the new year.”

“Why would you wait?”

She frowned, not following as she watched him take a few more steps, now about five feet from her.

“Why not discover who you are and what you want right now?”

“I don’t know what you mean, Keith.”

“I mean…I have,” he said. “In fact, I’ve done nothing but think since you walked out that door.”

Nodding, she clutched the jacket tighter, pressing it against her chest as she studied him. He looked like he’d done a lot of thinking…maybe some drinking, too, though he was perfectly sober right now.

Sober…and very serious.

“I’m sure you have,” she said, searching his face, trying to figure out why he was here.

“Would you like to know what I discovered, Hannah?”

She nodded, less tense because he didn’t seem angry or spiteful right now, but beaten and maybe nervous.

“Well, I discovered that life without Hannah Jean MacPherson is…”

She held her breath while he waited three or four heartbeats to finish. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she was surprised he knew her middle name, but she stayed silent while he visibly dug for the next word.

“Miserable,” he finally said with a humorless laugh. “Also lonely, boring, pathetic, full of regret and sadness, and…yeah, miserable. Do I need to go on?”

Her heart shifted as his tone and expression softened with every word.

“Because I will,” he said. “I’ll go on for as long as I have to, Hannah, because I’m not leaving here until you come back to me.”

She sucked in a breath, blinking at the declaration—she truly hadn’t been expecting that.

She waited for a swoon…but nothing happened.

“And I know”—he held up his hand as if to stop her response, even though she was silent—“things have to change. I get that and I’m…okay with that.”

“Okay with…what?” she asked, still not sure what he was saying.

“With…you know. Change. And by change, I mean…the big M.” He rolled his eyes, a mix of embarrassed and nervous.

“Do you mean marriage?” she asked, more confused than anything.

He couldn’t even say it! That just made her certain she’d made the absolute right decision.

“Yes, Hannah. That’s what I mean.”

She let out an exhale and tried to wrap her head around this. Was this his new game? Was he saying he’d talk about getting married—or the big M —and hope that would satisfy her? Because?—

“Hannah, I mean it,” he said, coming closer to nearly close the space between them. “If that’s the way to keep you in my life, then…”

“You have to want it, too, Keith. It’s not punishment .”

He gave a hollow laugh. “I know, I know. I’m just…not romantic and cheesy like that. It’s not my style, Hannah.”

“I know,” she said, holding his gaze and seeing just how determined he was.

It wasn’t his style, but at least he understood what she wanted. But now, would she?—

“So here goes nuthin’,” he said, so softly she wasn’t sure she’d heard right.

Very slowly, he cleared his throat, reached into his pocket, and lowered himself to one knee.

Wait… what ? What was he?—

“Keith!”

“Hold up there, Hannah. I have to do this.” He blinked, his eyes misty, and looked up at her, opening a black box to reveal a small, antique-looking sapphire ring. “Hannah Jean MacPherson, will you marry me?”

She felt her soul leave her body as she stared down at him in utter disbelief. And despair.

She’d waited and waited, longed and imagined, spent so many nights in tears, so many hours dreaming, so many years wanting nothing but this very moment.

And now? Now…

“Hannah? My knee hurts. It’s my aunt’s ring that belonged to my grandmother. Doesn’t that count for anything?”

“It’s…everything,” she whispered. And nothing that she wanted.

How did she tell him that?

Trembling, she managed a shaky breath, trying to find the words.

“Is that a yes?” His whole face lit up and that was sweet. So sweet. But…

She didn’t want to marry Keith Kelly and now, after years of begging, she was about to turn him down.

What was wrong with her?

She loved the man—she certainly used to. She’d ached to marry him—she’d thought it all the time. She knew him better than anyone and she wasn’t getting any younger.

But that, she knew, was not a reason to say yes. There was only one answer, one way to end this, one simple word.

“No,” she breathed. “I can’t.”

His whole face fell as he stared back in shock.

“ What ?” He barked the word, wincing as he pushed up. “You’re saying no?”

“I’m saying…yes?—”

“Oh, thank God?—”

“Yes, I’m saying no.” Oh, goodness, she was all over the place and shaking for real now. “I mean, I…I…”

“Hannah.” He choked her name. “This is all you wanted. The ring. The proposal. The wedding. The whole deal.”

No, no, no . “How can I explain it to you?”

“With your mouth. Now.”

She shuddered at his tone of pure disgust. “Keith, I don’t want the…the trappings of romance. I want love.”

“And me proposing isn’t…love?” He looked skyward and stabbed his hand in his hair, pulling it back in frustration. “Do you even know what you want, Hannah?”

Right then, she didn’t. She knew that she didn’t want someone who so totally and completely didn’t get her.

There had to be more, right? It had to be better than…one gargantuan compromise, didn’t it? He made marriage sound like a penalty or payment. That wasn’t what she wanted.

He grunted and stuffed the ring box back into his pocket, inching back. “I’m not gonna ask again,” he said gruffly. “This was hard enough.”

“That’s just it, Keith. It shouldn’t be hard. It should be beautiful and exciting and thrilling and?—”

“Gotcha.” He gave her a flat palm. “You were right the first time, Hannah. I should have just let you go. We’re good. We’re done. We’re…done,” he repeated, nodding as he backed away. “You have a merry Christmas and a good life, kid. It was a decent run.”

With a tight smile, he turned and walked out, closing the door very quietly behind him.

She pressed her face into Nick Venema’s jacket and cried.

“Hannah!” Noelle opened the front door wide, reaching for her, concern etched on her features. “Are you okay? Have you been crying?”

“I’m…” Her voice was rough, but then, she’d been driving all over town and through the mountains, thinking and replaying and, yes, sobbing. She’d ended up here at Noelle and Jace’s ranch, knowing in her heart that she needed her friend. “Keith proposed.”

“What?” She pulled her inside, lifting her left hand. “I don’t see…” She looked at Hannah’s face. “Oh, honey, you said no.”

“I did.”

Jace came up from behind her, curious to see who was at the door. “Hey, Hannah,” he said. “You all right?”’

“She is not all right.” Noelle wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer. “She needs love and maybe wine and whatever she wants.”

Jace’s eyes flickered and he nodded. “Privacy,” he said softly, then turned toward the den. “Hey, Cass. How ’bout we take Sprinkles for her walk? I need some air and?—”

“Yay, Daddy! I’m coming!” The little girl shot out, then stopped. “Oh, hi, Aunt Hannah. Do you want to come with us?”

Hannah smiled, the sweet invitation tugging at her heart. “I’m going to stay here and talk to your…to Noelle.”

“’Kay. Let me get my coat and boots.”

She shot off toward the kitchen and Jace shifted his attention, and smile, to them. “Do you need anything, Hannah?” he asked. “Can I get you?—”

“I’m fine, Jace. I promise. I just want to talk to Noelle.”

“She’s all yours.” He put his arm around Noelle’s shoulder and pressed a soft kiss on her hair. “Well, not literally. She’s mine, thank God.”

A few minutes later, with one more kiss on Noelle’s cheek, Jace walked out with Cassie in the lead, chattering about her goat.

“What can I get you?” Noelle asked, guiding her toward the kitchen. “What would make you happy?”

“That.” She pointed toward the door that just closed.

Noelle frowned, not following. “Sprinkles, the darling goat?”

“Jace, the darling husband,” she replied on a sad sigh. “Noelle, he loves you so much you can feel it when you walk into the house.”

“Oh, Hannah.” She led her to the table. “It took me forty years to find that kind of love.”

“Was it worth the wait?” Hannah asked.

“I’m not even going to answer that. Red or white? Or tea or coffee or hot chocolate, which is always on the menu here.”

“Actually, tea sounds perfect.”

“Done. Now, tell me everything.”

Hannah relayed the whole proposal as well as she could remember it. She finished as Noelle brought two steaming mugs with dangling tea bags to the table and settled in across from her.

“You did the right thing,” she said softly.

“How do you know? And please don’t tell me no one ever really liked Keith, because I don’t think I can stand to hear that now.”

“We all liked Keith,” she assured her. “We didn’t like that he refused to commit to you and, for that reason, never really felt like he leaned into the whole clan, but he’s been in your life a whole lot longer than we have.”

“So, so long,” Hannah said, blowing on the tea. “Eleven years. I cannot believe I gave him that much of my life.”

“Don’t regret it. You learned and grew and probably had a lot of fun. But as the clock ticked, you knew what you wanted.”

“And he just offered that, so why did I say no?”

Noelle looked at her with that same expression Hannah gave a second-grader who knew the answer to a question but wasn’t sure if they should say it out loud.

“I don’t really love him,” she finally whispered.

“Only you know that.”

“I don’t love him the way I imagined a woman loves the man who’s on one knee in front of her. But the thing is, Noelle, I would have said yes two weeks ago. What changed?”

“Will you throw hot tea at me if I say the hottie at the Christmas farm you were flirting with?”

“One exchange doesn’t wipe away eleven years,” Hannah replied. “I’m not that shallow.” She made face. “Am I?”

“Of course not. But what one exchange can do is make you realize your value, and that there are good men out there—someone who would put you on that pedestal and take care of you and treat you like a queen.”

“Someone who wouldn’t make me an afterthought,” she agreed.

Lifting her mug for a toast, Noelle nodded. “You deserve that love, Hannah.”

She took a sip of the steaming tea, letting the peppermint flavor cover her tongue. “I still can’t believe I said no.”

“I can’t believe he popped the question in your classroom.”

Hannah rolled her eyes. “It’s so Keith, you know? Quick and easy. But I feel…free.”

“Of course you do. It’s literally the first day of the rest of your life.”

She smiled at the cliché. “It really is. I was hanging onto that last goodbye, feeling so blue that it happened the way it did, but now, it’s truly over and I can…”

“Go see long-haired Paul Bunyan.”

“Stop it.”

“Well, you can give him a chance. He’s interested.”

She took another sip of tea, feeling a tad guilty when a little shiver of anticipation went through her.

“He is and…maybe I could be, too. Maybe.” She swiped the topic away with one hand, definitely not ready to talk about another guy when she’d just turned down a marriage proposal. “How are you guys? What’s new?”

“Oh, you know…Christmas.”

There was something off in Noelle’s voice—maybe it had been there the whole time, but Hannah was too wrapped up in herself to notice. A note of sadness or…something.

“Oh!” Hannah leaned back and suddenly realized what it was. “When I almost called you Cassie’s mommy. I caught myself, but?—”

“No, no, that’s not it. Not exactly.” She settled into the chair, looking as if she was considering letting out a confidence. “It does have to do with being a mommy, though.”

Hannah gasped softly. “You’re pregnant?”

“I’m not,” Noelle quickly said. “And if I want to be—which I do—it seems I need a surgery to correct a less-than-perfect uterus.”

“Really? What is it? Are you okay? Are you in pain? How did you find out?”

“No pain, no symptoms, just no pregnancy. Eve talked me into seeing a fertility specialist, who found the issue. The surgery isn’t too complex, but if I don’t have it, I’m not likely to conceive or, if I do, a miscarriage is a very high probability.”

“Well, then you have the surgery,” Hannah said with zero doubt.

But Noelle looked like she had plenty of doubt.

“I don’t know. It’s a risk, especially at my age, and I do have Cassie. Even though…” She gave a sad laugh. “She won’t call me Mommy.”

“It’s just a word,” Hannah said. “She knows you as Noelle and loves you as if you were her mother. Anyone can see that.”

“I know,” Noelle agreed. “She’ll come around. And I love her and don’t want to do anything to scare her or make her unhappy. Is surgery worth…that risk?”

“Of something happening to you?” Hannah asked.

“She’s already lost one mother. That said, she wants a sibling, desperately.” Noelle shook her head. “I don’t know what to do.”

“My dad would say to pray.”

“Jace did. We were just talking about it this morning,” she said. “We decided to table it until after the tree lighting, and make a decision by Christmas.”

Hannah smiled. “What does he want you to do?”

“Whatever I want. It matters not to him, although…I kind of think he’d prefer I don’t take the risk. We’re very happy as we are, but…you know me. Always trying to climb the ladder to the next accomplishment and control Mother Nature and Father Time, even though neither one of them wants my assistance.”

“Oh, dear,” Hannah sighed. “Sometimes we’re our own worst enemies, aren’t we?”

“True that.” Noelle pushed up and glanced outside. “They’ll be home soon, and hungry. Will you stay for dinner?”

“I’d love to but my empty apartment calls me.”

“Hannah! Stay with us. Cassie will make you laugh and I will make you happy and Jace will make all of us something amazing to eat.”

Hannah looked up at her, ready to say no and go home, but suddenly, there was nowhere she’d rather be than with family. “Too good to pass up,” she said.

“Unlike that marriage proposal you nixed,” Noelle cracked, making Hannah’s jaw drop. “What, too soon?”

Hannah laughed, feeling better already. “Not a minute too soon. And before they come back, can I ask you…do you really think I should go out with Brandon?”

Noelle gasped. “I have an idea! Bring him to the tree lighting! You can continue the kiss tradition.”

“There’s a tradition?” Hannah asked.

“Edna Covington kissed her husband there for the first time in 1962, and they got married, like, six months later.”

“Oh, please, that’s hardly a trad?—”

“And I kissed Jace there for the first time in twenty-five years and we got married in less than six months.” She gave a smug smile. “One more and it’s officially a tradition.”

Hannah laughed, but only to cover the fact that the very idea gave her chills. “I guess I could see if he wants to go.”

Noelle grinned. “And just like that, she’s back in the saddle. That didn’t take long.”

Shockingly, it did not. And Hannah knew why—she’d made the right decision with Keith. It hurt and it was sad, but it was definitely the right thing to do.