Wrapped Up in Christmas Love (Wrapped Up in Christmas #4)

Chapter Fifteen

“Y ou always liked coming here as a child.”

Isabelle had heard the approaching footsteps but hadn’t turned from looking up at the courthouse flag to see who’d come after her. Of all the people to have followed, why had it had to be her father?

Taking a deep breath, she winced at the memories that assailed her. She’d come here with him, sat on the bench next to him while he stared at the monument, and she ate whatever goodie he’d just bought her. Sometimes Sophie had been with them, but often, it had just been the two of them.

“I’m surprised you remember anything about my childhood being as you experienced so little of it,” she accused, not looking up at him.

He sat down on the bench next to her, but rather than stare up at the flag as she’d been doing, he studied where his trembling hands held on to the quilt still wrapped around his shoulders. “I’m sorry, Isabelle. More so than I know how to express. If I could have done things differently, I would have. At the time, I did what I had to do.”

“You had to leave?” Emotions assaulted her, making her want to leap from the bench and run far away, but she’d run enough for one night. It was chilly, but seriously, why was he still wearing the quilt?

He nodded. “I know you don’t understand. After all this time, I’m not sure I do, so how could I ever expect anyone else to? But when I looked in the mirror, I didn’t know who the man staring back at me was. I didn’t like him. He scared me. I was scared by what he might do to me or to the people I loved. I operated on a thin thread, always feeling as if I could lose control of everything inside me at any moment. Then one day, I just couldn’t do it anymore. I hitchhiked out of town, and don’t have much recall of anything that happened for a few years.”

The wind nipped at her, and Isabelle shivered. “You lived on the streets that long?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. I was in and out of homeless shelters, worked odd jobs. In Texas, I met a veteran who took me under his wing, showed me kindness, and got me into a therapy program he ran on his ranch for former service members. I found myself there, wanted to come back to Pine Hill, but too many years had passed. I convinced myself your mother, you, and Sophie were better off if I stayed gone.”

“We were,” she insisted, but wasn’t sure how convincing she sounded.

“Probably, but I should have given you a choice.” He glanced down at his hands. “Fear kept me from doing so.”

“Fear?” She knew of his military service, of the brave things he’d done. If she hadn’t, Sophie’s recent reminder would have refreshed her memory.

“Fear of rejection.” He tugged on the quilt corners. “As long as I stayed away, I had hope that someday I could come back to Pine Hill. If I came back and I was rejected, then I had nothing except regret.”

“You wanted to come back?”

“Desperately, but even after your fellow showed up, I was afraid to agree.”

“He’s not my fellow,” Isabelle insisted, wondering how long it would take for the town to accept that she and Zach had been pretend all along. Soon enough, he’d be gone, and it wouldn’t matter what anyone thought.

“You sure about that?” her father interrupted her thoughts. “It took me some fast-talking to convince him to let me be the one to come after you.”

“He tried to stop you?”

“It wasn’t so much that he wanted to stop me as it was that he was headed after you.”

Zach had been coming after her? Her father had stopped him? What was it Morgan had said about them being the two most important men in her life? They weren’t… only, they were. Leaning back against the bench, Isabelle closed her eyes, the image of the spotlight-lit flag imprinted on her eyelids taunting her.

Voice breaking, she whispered, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say.”

“You’re not supposed to say anything. There’s no need. Just—” He took a deep breath. “I plan to stick around Pine Hill, and with time, I hope you can forgive me.”

He made it sound so simple, and yet nothing could be more so. There was so much pain, so much that couldn’t be undone. Looking his way, she asked, “What about Mom?”

His hands shook to where he slid them beneath the quilt’s edges. “I never stopped loving her.”

Isabelle’s breath caught. “Have you told her?”

He shook his head. “Guess I’m afraid of doing that, as well.”

“She deserves to hear it, to have the opportunity to tell you to get lost again, if that’s what she wants.”

“She does. That and a lot more. Do you think that’s what she’s going to do? Tell me to get lost again?”

“I’m not sure.” Over twenty years had passed. “She’s never dated, but I doubt she could ever trust you to not leave again.”

Turning on the bench, the quilt wrapping him in evidence of Sophie’s love, his blue gaze met hers. “What about you, Isabelle? Can you trust that I’m here to stay?”

Could she? Pain pulsed through her in hurtful waves. “I-I don’t think so.”

He studied her a moment, then placed his hand over hers. Isabelle’s entire body zeroed in on the warmth, the first time she’d felt her father’s touch in over twenty years. Tears pooled in her eyes, a few running freely down her cheeks.

“Are you willing to try?”

Swallowing her pride, her pain, her desire to pull her hand free, she fought to keep a sob at bay. “I suspect you aren’t going to give me a choice.”

“If by that you mean that I’m never going to quit trying to earn your trust, then you’re right. I’m home, Isabelle.” With that, he took hold of the quilt about his shoulders, stretched out the material to envelop her within its warmth, and held her close. “Finally, I’m home.”

*

“I invited your father over to stay Christmas Eve so that he could be with us Christmas morning.”

Fighting to keep Bobbin off the Christmas paper of the gift she was attempting to wrap, Isabelle glanced toward her mother. What did she expect her to say? Her father had been home for a week and had wormed his way back into their lives. Who was Isabelle to argue if her mother wanted him there at Christmas?

“If that’s what you want.”

“Want?” Darlene sank into the chair close to where Isabelle sat cross-legged on the living room floor, surrounded by wrapping supplies. “It’s a lot to take in, this past week. But I think he should be here, rather than at Sarah and Bodie’s for Christmas, don’t you?”

As awkward as it would be having her father there, what her mother said made sense. “You’re right. This is Jeannie’s first Christmas. Dad shouldn’t be there.”

Her mother eyed her. “You think he shouldn’t be here, either?”

Bobbin swiped at Isabelle’s hand as she taped the paper edges together.

“Actually, he should.” Darlene’s brows lifted and Isabelle shrugged. “It’s Christmas. If ever someone was going to come home, that’s the time.”

If only she could fully open her heart to forgive him. Lord knew he’d reached out to her and her mother repeatedly over the past week. He was trying. As much as she knew she needed to keep her guard up, a part of her wanted to lower every defense and just embrace the little girl inside of her who wanted her daddy to be in her life.

“It’s going to take some getting used to, your father being back in town,” her mother continued, reminding Isabelle that she wasn’t the only one dealing with a lot of emotional baggage. “It was good of the Harveys to hire him to work on the farm.”

Despite Bobbin’s sabotage attempts, Isabelle managed to get the remainder of the paper taped. “I think they were grateful he responded to their Help Wanted ad. They’ve been extra busy this year with the ice-skating rink being such a success.”

Isabelle stared down at the gift. Her heart fluttered and she swallowed. For the first time in a very long time, she’d wrapped presents for her father. Her mother hadn’t asked who the gifts were for, but Isabelle was a planner. Her mother would know that she’d marked off every name on her gift list long ago. Every name except the one she’d added that week. The gift was nothing more than a pair of wool socks and good gloves but buying them had made Isabelle’s head spin. Wrapping them, the same.

“Sophie is going to be so surprised when she gets back from her honeymoon.” Her mother glanced her way. “Have you talked with her?”

Cutting off a long piece of silver ribbon so she could finish with the gift, Isabelle nodded. “She sent me selfies of her and Cole in front of the Eiffel Tower. He even took her to the Palais Garnier opera house. It all looks surreal, and yet she’s there.”

Picking up the package that held the gloves Isabelle had already wrapped to inspect the tag, Darlene smiled. “I got that selfie, too. Thank you for helping Cole pull that off. We’re going to be hearing about their trip all Christmas.”

“At least that will give us something to talk about Christmas Day while Dad’s here. That will help keep it from feeling so awkward, having him in the house again.” Isabelle curled the ribbon with the edge of her scissors, pleased it twirled perfectly. Bobbin pounced, swatting at the bouncy end. Isabelle put her scissors on the floor and picked up her cat to look directly into his green eyes. “You need to stop that or you’re going onto the naughty list.”

Darlene reached for the gift and ribbon and tied a bow around the box. Rubbing her chin over where Bobbin had buried his head in the curve of her neck, Isabelle gestured toward the tag she’d already filled out. Darlene put the tag on, then put it under the tree.

Turning toward Isabelle, she gave a nervous laugh. “I’ll take all the help I can get regarding your father. But let’s not talk about him anymore. How about you? Any trips to Paris in your near future?”

Rubbing her cheek against Bobbin, Isabelle frowned. “Of course not.”

Her mother’s brow rose. “Then you haven’t heard from Zach?”

Ugh . Not her mother, too. “What does Zach have to do with my going to Paris?”

“Sophie isn’t the only one of my daughters who dreamed of a honeymoon in France.”

Grateful for Bobbin’s affections, Isabelle snorted. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten how I feel about military men in all this Dad-being-home-and-us-calling-a-semi-truce-to-take-things-one-day-at-a-time thing.”

“I’ve not forgotten. And it really has nothing to do with how you feel about military men, but how you feel about Zach.”

“Mom—”

“I saw you two together, Isabelle,” her mother interrupted. “We all did. You were happier than I’ve ever seen you.”

Bobbin squirmed in her arms, apparently deciding he’d had enough loving, but Isabelle didn’t let go. “Then I should go into acting. It was all fake for Sophie’s sake, remember?”

“I love you, darling, but you’re not that good of an actress.”

Isabelle snorted. “Thanks, Mom. I appreciate that.”

Coming over to put her hand on Isabelle’s shoulder, her mother sighed. “I always knew Sophie would give her whole heart to some lucky man. I’m glad it was Cole, because he’ll treasure that gift. You…” her mother paused. “I always worried about you, Isabelle. I never doubted that it would take a special man to win your heart, that he’d have to have the nerves of Daniel and be as patient as Job.” Her mother’s dark eyes met hers. “He’d have to be tough as Samson, as wise as Solomon, to get around those seemingly impenetrable walls you’ve protected your heart with all these years.”

“You make me sound as if I’m incapable of love.” Isabelle hugged Bobbin to her, then frowned when the cat gave her a swat with its paw, causing her to loosen her hold and him to jump free.

“Far from it,” her mother assured. “You’re capable of great love. The kind that consumes one’s very being and lasts a lifetime. Deny it all you want, but you know exactly what I’m referring to. My question is, are you going to let Zach behind those walls?”

“You may have forgotten this part, but he left. Without saying a word to me, I might add.” Just like her dad had. He’d known how hurt she’d been by that, and then he’d done the same thing. “You paint a fairy-tale image of a man who could love me, but it’s more a nightmare, because Zach doesn’t love me.”

Her mother sighed, then walked over to the Christmas tree, poked beneath it, and picked up a brightly wrapped package. “Sarah dropped this off for you. I was supposed to give it to you to open tomorrow, but everyone will be here tomorrow, so maybe tonight is better. It’s from Zach.”

Isabelle stared at the present. “What is it?”

Handing her the gift, Darlene shrugged. “Only one way to find out.” Darlene bent and kissed the top of her head. “Tomorrow’s going to be a long day, so I’m calling it a night. But before I go, know how much I love you, honey, and that I want you to be happy. If that’s here, working at the quilt shop with your sister, then fine. If it’s not, go find your happiness, Isabelle.”

Isabelle’s heart squeezed. “You mean Zach?”

“If he’s your happiness.”

Isabelle stared at the package for long moments after her mother had left the room. Part of her wanted to put the gift back under the tree. Another part wanted to just toss it out and never know what was inside. But a bigger part knew that if she did, she’d always wonder.

“I have to open it, don’t I?” she asked the cat perched on a chair arm. At her question, Bobbin yawned, gave her a slightly annoyed look, then hopped onto the floor to inspect what she held with great curiosity.

“Sorry,” she told him, giving the box a gentle shake. “This isn’t for you.”

Isabelle guessed what was inside, then had to know and, with shaking hands, tore off the paper. Sure enough, inside the shiny packaging, he’d wrapped the snowman placemats they’d made at his unnecessary sewing lessons. There was also a card and a smaller package with a tag that read, Bobbin . As if he could read the tag, Bobbin gave her a so-there look.

“Okay, so perhaps it was partially for you,” she relented. “I guess you want to know what’s inside yours, too.”

The cat might not speak human, but his expressions conveyed his thoughts quite well.

Isabelle lifted the lid from the smaller box and stared at the contents. “Does he really think you’re going to wear this one? He should have learned his lesson with the last gift he bought you. You don’t do cute outfits.” Not that she thought the kitty soldier uniform had been cute, much, but this one… well, it kind of was.

Pulling the outfit from the box, Isabelle held it up.

“ Meow. ” Bobbin brushed his head against the material.

Isabelle eyed the cat. “Seriously?”

“ Meow. ”

Shaking her head, Isabelle slipped Bobbin’s legs through the openings, then fastened the Velcro sides together under the cat’s belly. “A perfect fit.”

If not for the card calling to her, Isabelle would have laughed at the sight the cat made. As it was, her smile was short-lived as her gaze returned to the red envelope with her name written on it in Zach’s bold handwriting.

Rather than seal the envelope, he’d tucked the flap inside. Heart pounding and breathing shallow, Isabelle undid it and slid the card out, wondering at the thickness inside.

A jolly snowman wished her a Merry Christmas.

She opened the card. Music began playing, and a white gold chain and pendant almost fell to the floor before she could catch it.

Merry Christmas, Blondie. I’ll never see a snowman that I won’t think of you and Pine Hill. Thank you for teaching me what it means to be a part of a family. Love, Zach.

The pendant and chain tightly clasped in her palm, Isabelle reread the note over and over, trying to decipher any hidden meaning, then deciding there was none, despite how her gaze kept zeroing in on his Love, Zach . He’d just been being his abominable self.

“He doesn’t love me,” she told Bobbin. “He couldn’t.”

“ Meow. ”

“Don’t give me that,” she ordered the cat, who was looking at her, smugly proud in his fuzzy snowman costume. “But he must have cared at least a little.”

Otherwise, why would he have bothered with the gifts? Then again, hadn’t he bought the quilt kits for Sarah? Maybe he’d just done what he considered polite. Maybe.

Her fingers shook so that she struggled with the clasp, but finally got the chain undone and around her neck. Re-hooking the clasp took even longer, but she managed, tugging the chain around to where the snowman pendant fell at her throat.

As she walked to the mirror, the snowman tugged at the hole in her heart.

“He doesn’t love me,” she repeated to her image. “And he’s ruined snowmen for me forever.” Not that he hadn’t already. Cradling the pendant, she sighed. “And what does it mean that I may never take this off?”

Bobbin’s only answer was another “ Meow. ”

*

Glowing with happiness and laden with presents, Sophie barely made it inside the house on Christmas morning when she froze. “Is Bobbin wearing a snowman costume? And how in this world did you get him to let you put it on him?”

Excited at seeing her sister, Isabelle enveloped her in a hug. “Would you believe he’s worn it all night and won’t let me take it off him?”

Sophie’s eyes widened. “No way.”

Bearing more gifts, Cole stepped into the house, saw Bobbin, and snickered. “I can kind of see his button nose, but where’s his corncob pipe?”

“Just because you’re family does not mean you can make fun of my cat.” Isabelle narrowed her gaze, then gave him a hug, too. “Welcome home, bro .”

“Can’t say as I was in a hurry to get back, sis. But Sophie would never have forgiven me if we weren’t home for Christmas. You know how she is about her favorite holiday.”

Isabelle knew.

A few minutes later, Cliff arrived. While Sophie told them about her favorite parts of her Paris trip, Cole smiled indulgently at his wife. Their mother had gotten up early, styled her hair, put on makeup, and even a dab of perfume. Her father had been smiling at her from the time he’d arrived. Things were far from perfect. Maybe they never would be. But as Isabelle glanced around the table at the delicious breakfast they’d made together, she said a silent prayer of thanks that her family was there and safe.

After they’d cleaned up the kitchen, they opened presents. Sophie and Cole opened the first Christmas ornament with their names and wedding date on it, which Isabelle had made for them, and gushed about how much they loved it. Sophie had shopped during her honeymoon and had put together a Paris box for Isabelle with an Eiffel Tower snow globe, a scarf, and a fancy box of delicious macarons.

Isabelle sniffled at the snow globe, refused to let thoughts of Zach ruin her morning, and passed her macarons around to share with everyone. When they’d finished, and although she’d been snapping photos with her phone, Sophie pulled out her camera, the same one Isabelle had given her for her sixteenth birthday.

“Everyone huddle together in front of the Christmas tree. We need a new picture for the wall.” When they were there, awkwardly huddled, Sophie added, “On the count of three, say Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer.”

“Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer,” they all said in unison as the camera flashed.

Sophie checked the photo, then smiled. “It’s perfect.”

After loading up their gifts, they headed to Aunt Claudia’s for a multi-family gathering.

Isabelle smiled at all the right times. Laughed at all the right times. Was fairly positive she gave the right answers at the right times. But that didn’t keep Sophie from following her into the kitchen when she went after more cider.

“Call him.”

She didn’t bother pretending that she didn’t know who her sister meant. “No.”

“You should at least thank him for Bobbin’s gift and wish him a Merry Christmas.” Sophie gave her a suspicious look. “If he gave the cat a costume, what did he give you?”

The pendant burned at Isabelle’s throat so hotly that Sophie’s gaze dropped to it.

“Not that I don’t know. I noticed your necklace when we first came into the house this morning and have been dying to get you alone to get the scoop.”

“It’s just a necklace,” Isabelle assured, trying not to reach up to touch the pendant again.

She’d fallen asleep clutching the silly snowman the night before, had dreamed Santa had stuffed Zach into her stocking, giving him to her forever. Maybe she should lay off the hot cocoa before bed on Christmas Eve.

“A necklace from Zach,” Sophie clarified, emphasizing Zach.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Sure, it does,” Sophie countered. “You’re wearing it, aren’t you?”

“Sophie, I—” Isabelle paused, then gave in to touching the snowman as if it were some magic talisman that would give her the ability to go on. She met her sister’s gaze, then acknowledged the truth. “I miss him.” Once the words came out, they overwhelmed her. “I more than miss him. I—”

Doing a little happy dance, Sophie squeed. “I knew it!”

“It doesn’t matter, Sophie. He’s gone.”

“So what? We live in a world filled with transportation options.” Sophie’s eyes twinkled. “If you want Zach, go find him.”

Breathing had become difficult, but she managed to ask, “And then what am I supposed to do? Hit him over the head and inform him that he’s the only thing I want for Christmas?”

Sophie giggled. “That might work. You have been extra good this year.”

Adrenaline built in Isabelle, messing with logic. She met Sophie’s gaze.

Her sister nodded. “Go. Take your car and go. Now. Cole and I will bring Mom and Dad back to the house. Just go get Zach.”

Isabelle hesitated. “What if he doesn’t want to be gotten?”

“It’s Christmas Day, Izzy. The most magical day of the year. If ever there was a perfect day to tell Zach how you feel, it’s today. Go.”

Isabelle gave her a hug, then, not quite believing what she was about to do, headed toward her Aunt Claudia’s back door.

“Hey, Izzy?” Sophie called.

Isabelle paused and turned to look at her smiling sister.

“If you end up knocking out Zach and need help getting him back to Pine Hill, call. Cole and I will head that way. I’m pretty sure most of Pine Hill would help you haul him back here. We love you.”

On her drive to the house, Isabelle made a mental list of what she needed to do prior to taking off to find Zach.

Call Sarah and see if she or Bodie knew where Zach currently was .

She could call Zach’s cell, but what she had to say needed to be said in person, not over the phone.

Pack an overnight bag.

Fill up her gas tank .

Surely, there was a station open somewhere because she doubted she’d make it wherever he was on half a tank, especially in the snow.

Figure out what I want to say to Zach .

That last one was the most difficult. If he was at his parents’, what did she expect to do? Show up uninvited when she knew his relationship was strained? Or maybe he’d gone on to the Keys to visit his friend Matt as he’d originally intended. Or back to DC.

She voice-dialed Sarah’s number.

“Merry Christmas, Isabelle,” Sarah answered.

“You, too.” Isabelle’s mouth dried to where her tongue stuck to her upper palate. “Um, do you happen to know where Zach is?”

Sarah hesitated.

“If you know, please, tell me. I need to talk with him.”

“He went to his parents when he left here, but—” There was a garbled background noise. “Sorry, Isabelle, but I have to go. Merry Christmas.”

“Well, that wasn’t as helpful as I’d hoped,” she mumbled to herself as she turned onto Main Street, then onto her street. Pulling into her driveway, she rushed into the house, grabbed a bag, and threw a change of clothes into it.

“ Meow .”

Isabelle paused in her packing to glance at her cat. “Sorry, Bobbin the Snowman. I’m in a rush.”

But for whatever reason, seeing the cat in the snowman outfit made her think of an old Halloween costume where Sophie had dressed up as Frosty. Her sister had always chosen something happy and Christmasy to wear for the spooky holiday. It had been several years ago, but the outfit was packed in their storage building. Isabelle wasn’t sure which tote, but she had each one labeled, so it shouldn’t take her more than a few minutes to find it.

“Ever heard of a singing snowmanagram?” she asked the cat, who followed her outside. Snow-covered grass crunched beneath her feet as she and the cat headed to the building. “Yeah, me neither, but looks like that’s what I’m going to be today.” She unlocked the door, and although not warm, being in the building blocked the cool wind. “If the costume fits.”

A few minutes later, staring at herself in the house’s hallway mirror, Isabelle snickered at the sight she made. “Yeah, I almost wished this hadn’t fit.”

“ Meow. ”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” she agreed, while holding her corncob pipe in the corner of her mouth. “I look ridiculous, but do you have a better idea?”

“ Meow. ”

She stooped to pet Bobbin’s tail, one of the cat’s few exposed fur areas. “I’m sure that’s brilliant, if I spoke cat.”

A loud knock sounded at the front door, causing Isabelle to jump and Bobbin to take off to the living room.

“Yeah, I’m so not answering the door wearing this getup.” It was probably just neighborhood carolers come earlier than usual. It would be better for them to come back when the others were home to enjoy their holiday cheer.

Isabelle took off her black top hat and, carrying it, turned to go to her bedroom to collect her overnight bag. She’d change back into her regular clothes and get on the road. Pine Hill to just outside Atlanta should take her roughly six hours, give or take. If she left now, she should be there before ten. That wasn’t too late for a singing snowmanagram, surely?

The knocking continued, growing more persistent.

“I know you’re in there, Blondie. Let me in.”