Mistletoe and Mr. Right Page 57
What the hell was he thinking? What the hell was he doing? He should be on a plane back to Chicago right that minute.
But his choice had been made. Going back now would only make things worse, because nothing had changed. She still deserved better than having him and his town come between her and her family. No, Rick had to stay this course, no matter how terrible it made him feel.
After his flight finally landed in Anchorage, Rick got his snow-covered car out of the airport’s short term parking and drove back to Moose Springs, barely seeing the road.
He only started to notice his surroundings when he reached town. The Santa Moose had made it to the center of Moose Springs, where up to this point, the best decorations had remained safe. Now, the town’s Christmas tree was tipped over, its ornaments crushed and scattered. Plastic snowflakes lay broken and battered.
Only one poor inflatable elf remained standing, staring at the carnage with haunted eyes.
If Diego had been home, Rick would have kept driving instead of turning off at Graham’s driveway. But Diego had his own plans, having not expected Rick to be back so soon. Since Diego was at some holiday party with a group his own age, Rick figured he might as well do the same. He wasn’t ready to spend Christmas Eve alone.
When he arrived, Graham’s house was stuffed full of people, so at first, Rick was able to slip in the door and blend in without anyone noticing. He hadn’t told anyone what had happened in Chicago, and he’d hoped to avoid talking about it tonight. Losing Lana was causing a slow bleed in his heart that he couldn’t stanch, and he wasn’t ready to discuss this with anyone yet.
So of course a sloshy little person stumbled his way, her voice slurring with the effects of the Lockett family eggnog.
“I talked to Lana,” Zoey said, eyes flashing. Rick could smell the alcohol on Zoey’s breath from three feet away.
“How is she?” He couldn’t help but ask. Ending their fling…relationship…whatever it was with Lana’s cousin still in intensive care had been terrible timing. He’d felt like the biggest jerk alive since leaving Chicago.
Zoey actually growled, which would have been cute under other circumstances. “She got dumped on Christmas.”
“Christmas Eve, darlin’,” Graham murmured helpfully, coming up behind his fiancée.
“Christmas Eve. You big…big…meanie.”
“Zo’s pulling out the big guns,” Graham said jokingly, giving Rick an apologetic look. “Pretty sure there are two sides to every breakup, honey.”
“Lana deserves better than I can give her,” Rick said quietly. “It’s wrong to keep pretending otherwise.”
Rick really wished he didn’t have to deal with an angry protective friend right now. He felt terrible enough.
No one had ever rolled their eyes harder than Zoey at his statement. “Gimme a break. Chicken. You’re a big…chickenman. One look at her family and boom. You bailed. Cluck cluck. Like your family is sooooo easy to get along with. Hi, Imma Diego. I grunt ’nstead of speaking.”
Graham draped an arm over Zoey’s shoulders, steadying her. “Sorry, she’s a little bit drunk, buddy, and it brings out her protective side. Zo, maybe we should leave Rick here to consider his life choices without our running dialogue.”
Zoey shoved Graham’s arm off her, giving Rick her mightiest death glare. Her slurring grew worse with every word. “You’restupid. S’stupid, chickenman.”
When she stumbled in his direction, Rick reached out to steady her. He ended up with Zoey’s nose mere inches from his own, the alcohol on her breath making his eyes sting. Sloppy drunk had never been his style, so he couldn’t imagine why Graham looked so amused. Graham sat on the arm of the couch, grinning as Rick tried to avoid the finger waggling in his face or her clucking at him. Drunken burps weren’t cute.
“Lana’s smarter than you. No chickenmen for her. Imma sit down.”
Zoey stepped back, flopping down to Graham’s knee, and promptly fell asleep.
“Well, that’s one way of putting it.” Graham wrapped a secure arm around Zoey’s waist. “The other way is ‘Hello, Rick. How was Chicago?’”
“It could have been better,” he said shortly.
Graham gave him a concerned look. “What’s the real story? Because you two were pretty solid when you left here.”
Rick really didn’t want to talk about it, and not in the middle of a party.
“Lana deserves someone who won’t trap her in the middle of nowhere,” Rick said, dropping his voice as quiet as he could.
Graham gave him a sideways glance. “She’s a woman who hides out in Moose Springs every chance she gets. I’m not sure you and she are on the same page here, buddy.”
There were too many curious eyes and perked ears in that crowd. Heading outside to the porch for some space, Rick sat down. He looked up at the mountain, the warm glow of the resort lights making it appear like an ornament against the evergreens. Somewhere behind all the tree cover was the last remainder of a snow penis, with everything but the jingle bells filled in with snow. She’d never taken it down, as if she understood that the town needed to get their frustrations out somehow.
Had it only been two weeks since the town hall meeting? It felt like a lifetime.
The door opened again, and two bodies joined him on the porch steps. They’d spent a lot of time sitting on porches, him and Easton and Graham. Sometimes, in a town like theirs, there wasn’t a lot else to do. In Moose Springs, momentous decisions were made on porch steps. Drunken ridiculousness happened on porch steps, first teenage kisses and marriage proposals, grieving the loss of a family member, falling in love, or losing someone you loved.
This was where lives happened. Where his life had happened. And apparently where his friends would help him pick up the pieces.
“You want to talk about her?” Easton asked in a low rumble.
Rick shook his head. There was nothing to say. He’d lost the woman he loved, again. Only this time? This time, Rick wasn’t sure he was coming back from it.
“Someone needs to check on Lana,” Rick finally said. “I hurt her.”
“You’re not looking too hot yourself,” Graham replied, clapping a hand to his shoulder.
Easton took a drink of his beer. “We’ll check on her. We’re just checking on you too.”
Rick continued to stare up at the soft glow coming off the mountain. Following his line of sight, Graham frowned up at the resort too.
“You know anything about that place I don’t?” Graham asked.
Rick turned his eyes away from the mountains, where he no longer knew if the resort would last. Getting rid of the resort was something they’d always wanted. If he asked Lana to stand back and do nothing, to let Silas have his way, they might finally have their wish. But at what cost?
“Graham, if I told you that the Shaws aren’t going to stay in business much longer, what would you say? If this place could be a ghost town in a couple of years, us included?”
Graham was quiet for a long time. “I’d say that Zo wants kids. Not soon but someday.”
“Lot harder to have kids when we’re all out of work.”
With a sigh, Graham nodded. “Yeah.”
“Lana’s trying, but she’s going to have to make some big decisions soon. My place is proof a business can barely stay open here serving locals only. I have to open it to the tourists, or I’ll have to shut the doors by the end of January.”
Easton and Graham grimaced. “I didn’t know things were that bad.”
“Without the tourism dollars, a lot of us just can’t keep afloat. We’ve tried.” Rick scuffed his shoe on the wooden porch step. “I still don’t like it. I still hate what they did to Jen and Diego, but it’s hard to watch everyone else fill their wallets, knowing mine is empty and will stay that way.”
“I’ll call Lana. See what we can work out.”
Rick tried. He tried to sit there and shut off what he felt. He tried to believe what he’d told himself over and over again since he’d walked away. But really, when it came down to it, Rick had been wrong.
“Guys…I think…I think I really screwed up. Someone needs to check on her. She’s going to need a friend.”
“More than you do?” Easton asked quietly.
Maybe…maybe not. But for right now, within their small friend group, Rick was going to make sure Lana had dibs.
* * *
Lana spent the last hours of Christmas Eve on a red-eye flight from Chicago to Anchorage. There was no point in chartering a private jet to get her there faster.
At thirty thousand feet, draining a glass of champagne as she looked down at the darkness outside her window, Lana wondered at what point she’d lost all her perspective. Probably the day she’d walked into the town hall meeting and Rick Harding had smiled at her. Close or far, it didn’t matter. There was no perspective, not when all she could see was him.
It would be easy to simply let him go. Painful, but easy. He wasn’t wrong—she would always feel a pull back to him when she was working abroad. The difference was Lana wanted that pull. She wanted a place and a person to come home to. Someone and someplace that wanted her there too.
A layover in Seattle gave Lana an hour to kill. She didn’t bother to check the time before calling her mother. No matter what else their failings, Montgomerys always answered at any hour. Jessica picked up on the third ring.
“It’s a long flight alone, isn’t it?” Jessica said sympathetically, skipping a greeting. “How are you holding up?”
“Longer than usual.” Lana was grateful for her mother’s voice. “Mom, how do you do it? You and Dad? How do you make it work when you’re always gone? Don’t you resent each other?”
Jessica was quiet for a very long time. Then she said simply, “We love each other. That’s always been enough.”
Closing her eyes, Lana asked softly, “And you don’t regret it?”