Chapter 6: CHAPTER SIX
The Positive Plan.
Cullen smiled in spite of her bite. “Let’s all sit down.”
Veronica moved with her chip still clinging to her shoulder, her back stiff, her eyes burning a trail of unspoken things. But she sat and took a sip of her wine, then reached for some of the food they’d been nibbling.
He noticed her slender body—grief skinny. She’d had the worst happen to her. Her whole foundation had been taken away in a few horrible moments. She remained stuck on that day, that time, the moment when her normal life had ended. She’d had to face a new life, alone and hurting, and snapping like a rabid animal in pain.
He got that.
“I think we’re all here because we’ve reached the end of the road,” he said. “I needed to find people who want a true Christmas.”
“You mean a quiet, reflective Christmas?” Hillman asked, a longing in his eyes.
“Yes,” Cullen said. “I thought a little company would be good, since this is a big place. I plan to clean it up and have rooms ready if any of you want a place to stay, rather than being home alone on Christmas.”
Veronica almost spoke, then held herself in check by giving him a long, curious appraisal, her green eyes shouting distrust. Cullen became more intrigued with her by the minute but starting a relationship while here had not been in his plans. Not sure what his plans would be in the end, he kept going.
“We could meet once a week for the rest of December. That would make our last Thursday meeting the night before Christmas Eve, and we can decide then if we’d like to stay all weekend. Until then, I think we should do something positive each week, and report back here.”
“Are you like Dr. Phil?” Bethany, who’d been so quiet, asked.
“No. I don’t like to be alone on Christmas,” Cullen repeated, not yet ready to talk about his motivations. The dark memories pierced at him like arrows, hitting the bull’s-eye that had always been on his back.
Trudy glanced up at him, curiosity beaming in her classic features. She’d aged into a beautiful woman. A powerful woman.
Veronica’s expression reminded him of someone who’d found an ugly bug. “Why do we have homework?”
“Because finding Christmas again is hard work,” Hillman pitched in, winking at Cullen. “I like that idea. I certainly need a distraction.”
“I’d like to do something nice for someone,” Bethany said. “I want my child to be kind, so if I’m in a kind mood while I’m carrying my baby, that could help him or her down the way.”
Trudy lifted one arched brow. “I have some things on my agenda.” She glanced at Veronica and Bethany. “Would you two be willing to help me with some projects? To get us more into the real meaning of Christmas?”
Bethany nodded and smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”
Veronica picked at a thread on her dress. “I’d like that.” She looked around, saw the mood. “I want to do things in a quiet way—I don’t need pats on the back or acknowledgements for being a benefactor. I am not Lady Bountiful, after all.”
“First step,” Cullen said. “Try to do something good for someone and . . . see how it goes.”
Veronica’s resistance changed to resolve, but he could tell she didn’t like his gentle nudges. She gave Cullen a direct stare, which he echoed right back at her. He could be an imposter. That’s what he’d been when he’d lived here—a misfit, a pretender, someone who would always be on the outside, working on a hustle. Some of his hustles had finally paid off in a good way, at least.
Hillman waved a hand. “I’m available. Unless you don’t want a man involved.”
“I still like men,” Trudy replied with a flippant tone. “Yes, you’re welcome to help, Hillman.”
Cullen felt the tug of those two toward each other. Interesting. Then he turned back to Veronica because he felt a tug toward her.
She stared at him in a way that gave new meaning to the phrase if looks could kill.
“You don’t like my idea?”
“I don’t think I like you, but I’m willing to try—only because I want my daughter to see I’m not completely bonkers. I remember a time when I really cared about other people.”
“Maybe our meetings can help with that,” he said, wishing it with all his heart. “I need to help others. It’s part of what makes Christmas so miraculous.”
“I guess it’s settled then,” Hillman said, standing. “This has been an interesting night.”
Bethany gathered their dishes and took them across to the massive kitchen. Trudy and Veronica helped.
Hillman came over to where Cullen worked on covering the food containers. “I think I know who you are.”
Cullen stopped, raising his eyebrows. “Really now?”
“There was a kid long ago,” Hillman began. “A kid forced to come to America and live with relatives here in Hidden Mountain. I found that kid right here in this lodge one cold December day.”
Cullen didn’t say anything. He couldn’t speak.
“You know what he said to me when I found him curled up in one of the bunk rooms?”
Cullen shrugged, holding his breath.
“He said he’d come here to the one place where he felt safe and loved. He’d been at this camp, both working here and, sometimes, joining in, but he got into a lot of trouble until one of the counselors took him under his wing.” Hillman stopped and stared out the window to the lake beyond the bluffs. “And that day he told me, ‘I don’t like to be alone on Christmas.’”
Cullen smiled. “How ’bout that? I guess I’m not the only one.”
Hillman chuckled, his eyes appraising and adsorbing. “No, son, you’re not.”
The women came back into the room, talking quietly to each other about meeting up for lunch next week, exchanging numbers, and making busy plans. They were now different than they’d been when they’d first entered this lodge. Everyone here had come carrying heavy baggage, looking for shelter and quiet. But some of that baggage had been lifted.
Cullen felt different too. Less morose, and more hopeful about this ridiculous challenge he’d created. He remembered three of the other people, even if they didn’t remember him or, in Bethany’s case, know him at all. But being with them tonight gave him hope and energy. Maybe enough energy to spar with a difficult, confusing, beautifully tragic woman who lived in a sad house, the one person here he needed to get to know.
Hillman gave Cullen a perceptive glance, then whispered, “We will talk tomorrow.”
Cullen nodded.
And they left it at that.
Tuesday morning, Veronica geared up to get in a walk, then checked the street both ways since she wanted to avoid him. She’d stayed inside most of the weekend because she did not want to see Cullen Murdock in the light of day.
She wasn’t ready for dating rumors. Because she wasn’t planning on dating anyone. But gossip grew like kudzu in this town, fast and twisted and hard to knock down.
Poor Lulu liked their walks, and the dog had obviously become tired of being sent to the winter-dead backyard, so here they were. She’d have to make this a quick stroll.
Today, she would have her first lunch meeting with Bethany and Trudy, at Trudy’s home. A command to come to the castle.
She actually looked forward to it.
She liked Trudy and she wanted to help Bethany, plus she wanted brownie points with her daughter. She’d sent Elle an email telling her about the X-Mas Club and what they were trying to do. No response yet. Too busy or too angry for her mother, who’d basically abandoned her emotionally. But not intentionally.
No, that had been a gradual thing after Veronica had decided she wanted to be alone. Just alone. But being alone and isolated wasn’t working out so well, after all.
Well, be careful what you wish for.
Deciding the road should be clear for her walk, Veronica tugged Lulu along and they headed out. Yesterday, she’d swept the front porch and yanked up weeds. Then she’d thrown away the dead plants by the door. She still couldn’t bring herself to officially decorate, but she might buy two more poinsettias and put candles in a few windows.
Still not sure about this whole X-Mas Club thing, Veronica did feel better this week. Two days before the next meeting.
Two days before she saw him again.
She made it across Mountain Avenue without seeing anyone, so she turned onto Wisteria, wondering which way to go. Seemed she’d been wondering that for three years now. But she wasn’t ready to go to the cemetery. If she went there, she’d have to confess to Josh and Jay about all of this. These people she’d gathered with were different out here in the real world because they had to put on a good face, same as her. But they’d all become the same behind the closed door of an also-lost old lodge. Group therapy incognito.
Thinking about Cullen buying the old place, and what it could mean, she decided to head back home so she could get ready for lunch. Not sure what to wear. Trudy didn’t announce her brands since they were so easily classic and recognizable. Veronica thought about her own wardrobe. Not many updates lately, however. Were Mom jeans still in style?
She checked the crossing at Wisteria and shied away from Camellia Avenue. Too busy and too center-of-town. She didn’t want to make small talk.
Then she turned back to Mountain Avenue and sent her sneakers flying. When she tripped on a jutting piece of sidewalk, Veronica flew through the air.
And right into Cullen Murdock’s chest. Again.
“Whoa,” he said, grabbing her arms in what felt like a déjà vu hold. He smiled at her, his gaze taking in her disheveled, messy self.
“You again,” she said on a huff, her hair falling in her eyes, her dog falling at his feet, while Veronica’s heart did a flip. “Do you have special powers that allow you to appear out of thin air?”
“No, I’m human. I believe we’ve already verified that.”
“I still have my doubts.” She stepped back. “How is it you wind up on my street almost every morning?”
“I’m staying at the lodge now, so I had to come into town for supplies,” he explained. Then he grinned. “I was hoping to see you again.”
“I don’t live near the Winn-Dixie,” she pointed out. “You’ll have to do better than that.”
“Okay, I parked in town, and I walked over to this street. I particularly like this street.”
“That, or you’re a stalker.”
“I’m not a stalker.” He shrugged and stared into her eyes. “I was hoping to see you again, actually.”
Shocked, she stared back. “Well, you’ve seen me. You’re on my street—and right here in front of me,” she said, trying to move away. “I’m sure I don’t look as intriguing in the cruel morning light.”
His hands were gentle on holding her there. “I think you look beautiful in the light of morning.”
Veronica almost laughed, but his eyes held a sincerity that pulled at her like an indigo sky. “You must be desperate, Cullen. Have you noticed me, really noticed me?”
“I not only noticed,” he said. “I wanted to know more about you.”
Ignoring that place in her heart that burned raw and tattered, she said, “Why me? I’m not exactly the most exciting person in town.”
“I told you I like to walk, and this is a good walking town. You did point out the famous Hidden Mountain loop.”
“I did. Everyone likes to walk this street. The live oaks make a great canopy.” She glanced around, thinking once in his arms, a mistake. Twice, fodder for gossip. When she heard voices in the distance, she gave him a pointed stare. “We are about to have an audience.”
He stood still, his eyes on her. “Do you want me to leave before your former friends hit this curb? Or should I stay and walk home with you, to show them that despite that tart attitude and your biting retorts, you still know how to make friends?”
“I’ll have to think about that—the lesser of two evils,” she said. “I don’t like you very much, but I sure don’t know what to say to them.”
“Then me it is,” he said, letting her go when the pitter-patter of state-of-the-art walking shoes hit the sidewalk across from them. “Want me to kiss you for good measure?”
She actually laughed. “They’d faint and keel over.” Then she turned somber. Josh’s face appeared in her head. Handsome, clean cut, easy. Her husband had talked with a cultured Southern accent, like a politician. Josh could melt butter with his words. Josh’s face had not been scarred and rugged, his hair never shaggy and windblown like this one with the Irish accent that played like a lullaby inside her brain.
Cullen, not knowing her inner musings, glanced at her lips. “I’m game. It wouldn’t be unpleasant.”
She glanced at his lips. The man had nice lips. “I’m not game, and it could get unpleasant.” I’m not. I’m not ready, so not ready.
He took her hand and tugged her along. “Let them see us going, rather than approaching. More mysterious.”
“And you love being mysterious, right? Is that how you draw unsuspecting women into your lair?”
“First, I don’t have a lair, and second, I don’t date much, and third, why are you so suspicious?”
She shrugged and heard the hushed whispers that echoed out over the trees, like squirrels chattering in the live oak branches. “Well, because I’m a nosy person who likes answers and I don’t know you. I need more time to figure you out.”
“Maybe a kiss could change that.” He shrugged. “Or I could go inside with you and let them think . . . whatever they want to think.”
That low, husky, ragged voice lured her in, but she pulled back. “And maybe my knee in your gut could stop that.”
“Ouch.”
They reached her gate and he opened it with all the flourish of a gentleman. Then he said, loudly, “I sure enjoyed our walk today, Veronica. Can’t wait to see you again Thursday night.”
She gave him a firm glare and mouthed, “Really?” Then said loudly, “Thanks, Cullen. See you soon.” Under her breath, she added, “Right now, I must go and do something positive.”
He chuckled. “And so must I.” Then he whispered, “If you need me for anything, call the lodge.”
With one quick glance at The Walkers, who had now slowed down and stared, she bobbed her head and took her time getting to the house. Lulu glanced back with unabashed adoration to Cullen.
“You’re pathetic,” she said to her lovesick dog. But Lulu did have good taste in all things.
Cullen Murdock should be declared illegal for looking so good on a cold winter morning.
She stopped and took a covert glimpse at him, hoping he didn’t really look as good as she thought. But he did. He had the old sweater and worn jeans thing down pat. And he glanced back and caught her looking.
He saw the gaggle of women approaching with their saccharin-sweet smiles and questioning eyes, but he only nodded and crossed the street away from them.
Veronica didn’t even stop as her former sisters-in-crime strolled by. She went inside and squealed low while she leaned against the door, her squeal either a plea for help, or a yelp of joy.
A mysterious man had flirted with her. But why her? He had a whole mountain to hike, so why pick her street and her?
Lulu danced and yelped, clearly not used to this kind of banter. Veronica grabbed her confused companion and hugged her close. “Lulu, I think we finally scored one against The Walkers. At least that man is good for something.”
Then she glanced around the silent house and remembered her grief with a gush of exploding memories, followed by an avalanche of pure guilt. “But I can’t let that happen again.”