Small Town Christmas (Blue Harbor #4) - Olivia Miles Page 0,67

changed. She was happy. I loved seeing her that way.”

“Please,” Cora said scornfully. “Don’t pity me because I was nice to your child.”

“I don’t pity you,” he said firmly. He was staring at her so intensely that she was momentarily disarmed. “I…I guess I’m in awe of you. I saw something in you that made me dare to believe that everything could be different. Better.”

Tears welled up in her eyes and for a moment, she thought, it wasn’t an act. It was all real. He was a good man. A man who loved his daughter. And this town. And Christmas.

And maybe even her.

But all too soon a shadow fell over his face again, and the warm and hopeful feeling was lost.

“This time here, this holiday…it’s not our life. Georgie will be living with her mother again, and I have my business to think about, and everything I’ve worked for to get to this point. This has been a vacation, but you can’t stay on vacation forever. Eventually, you have to go back to reality.”

“You don’t have to go back to the way things were,” Cora said firmly, hating the emotion that threatened when her breath hitched. “And sure, a lot of people just come here for the summers, but a lot of people live here year-round, too. It’s not a vacation for me. It’s my home. My life.”

And please don’t take it all away, she thought.

He looked at her sadly for what felt like eternity. She could hear the ticking of the old grandfather clock in the hall. Tears prickled the backs of her eyes, but they didn’t fall. There was still hope. And Christmas was always a time for hope.

“You told me yourself that Blue Harbor was different—better—than the life you had back in the city,” she said, hating the way her voice hitched. “And it doesn’t have to be that way. Will you really be happier going back, putting your business before everything else, just to try to win your father’s approval? Because I can tell you that you already have approval, just for being you. Your grandparents adore you as much as they love this town. And Georgie…” She trailed off. She’d said enough.

Phil’s jaw tensed, and for a moment, she thought she had actually gotten through to him. Until he said, “I’m sorry, Cora. You know that I mean that.”

“No,” she said, taking a step backward, toward the door. She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t hear anymore. “I don’t know that. And I don’t believe it either.”

She opened the door, letting the icy cold breeze hit her warm skin and freeze the tears that were hot and burning and about to spill over.

She stepped outside, knowing that this was probably the last time she would speak to him again, on a personal level, at least. There was still the business end of things to look forward to now, or maybe he’d spare her and have Lanie deliver the paperwork.

She turned, not giving any thought to what she was about to say, but allowing herself to speak from the heart, because when all else failed, that was what her mother had always told her to do.

“If you were sorry, you wouldn’t do it. If you have to apologize, then you must know it isn’t right. We all make choices, Phil. And saying you’re sorry doesn’t mean anything. Your actions do. And all the good intentions in the world don’t help anything or anyone if your effort is put in the wrong place.”

He stood tall in the doorway, the warm glow of the lamp in the hallway behind him. He stared at her sadly, not saying anything, until she turned and walked away, the snow crunching under her boots, all the way to where her car was parked. And even though she usually loved walking through the streets in this weather, days before Christmas when the wreaths were hung, and candles were lit in windows, and lights from Christmas could be seen in the corners of every house, each step felt heavier than the one before, because she wasn’t walking toward anything anymore.

She was walking away from something. And someone.

And for the first time in a long time, all hope felt lost.

14

Christmas Eve this year was not like any Cora had spent before, and that wasn’t just because Candy had spiked the hot cocoa with schnapps. She sat in the front room of her childhood home, with the fire crackling in the hearth and the Christmas tree lighting