Page 36 of Meet Me at the Christmas Cottage (Jonathon Island #6)

Chapter Seventeen

“I ’m going home, Lexi.”

Bronte had sequestered herself in her bedroom— Jonah’s childhood bedroom—for the last three hours.

In that time, she had packed, cried, unpacked (thinking that maybe she should stay and talk it over with Jonah, maybe they could work this out), then repacked, remembering that, one, at the end of the day she always ended up alone, and two, Jonah deserved so much better.

He deserved the big house filled with kids.

The White family was a crowd of people. They filled up spaces, and it was unfair for Bronte to ask Jonah to give up that dream for her.

“Hold on. Rewind. I thought you weren’t going home for another week.” It was after one in the morning in Michigan, but with the time change for California, it was still an acceptable calling time. Not that that would have stopped Bronte. She was desperate. “And Merry Christmas, by the way.”

Bronte pinched the bridge of her nose to keep from crying again. “I told him I couldn’t have kids.”

Lexi was silent for a breath. “And he didn’t take it well?”

“I don’t know. His family walked in.”

“His family?”

“Walked in. All of them. There were, like, fifty people.” Bronte paced.

“Fifty?”

Bronte threw up the hand that wasn’t currently holding the phone to her ear.

She needed to find her earbuds so she could free her hands.

“Okay, fine. It wasn’t fifty, but there were a lot of them.

” She dug around in her messenger bag for her missing earbuds.

“He has a big family, Lex. Like four sisters, and a niece, and I’ve lost count of all the people on the island that consider him a big brother. His family is big, huge.”

“Back up. I thought you had the place rented out until the end of the week? They can’t do that. They’d better be refunding you for the last few days you paid for. If you aren’t going to ask for it, you’d better believe I will.” There was a fight in Lexi’s voice.

Bronte smiled. Of course Lexi would be ready to throw punches for her.

“No, Lex, it’s fine. Apparently Holland messaged me they would be coming home early.

I just didn’t see it because I had my notifications silenced.

” Bronte didn’t add that she’d silenced her notifications because she’d been ignoring Lexi.

“And she already refunded me for the entire stay.”

“Good. That’s good.” Some of the bite disappeared from Lexi’s voice. “So, what does Jonah having a big family have to do with you telling him you couldn’t have kids?”

“He told me he was falling for me.” Bronte gave up looking for her earbuds and flopped down on the bed. “A big family is all he wants, and I could never give him that.”

“So you’re going home.” It wasn’t a question.

“I was going home before I told him.” Bronte closed her eyes, but whenever she did, she saw Jonah’s lips on Bree’s—it didn’t matter if it hadn’t actually happened. It’d be better to keep her eyes open. “An old girlfriend showed up. You know how this is going to play out.”

“But he told you he was falling for you before or after she showed up?”

“It doesn’t matter. After I’m out of the picture, he’ll see that she’s actually what he needs.”

“Oh.” Bronte could hear in Lexi’s voice that she wanted to argue, but they had argued this point so much over the years that Lexi had to know it was no use. “Bronte, I’m so sorry.”

Bronte sighed, the feeling of defeat settling on her. “Yeah.”

“What time are you leaving tomorrow? Do you need me to look at flights or anything?”

“I already booked a flight. I’ll leave in the morning by five. I found someone to take me to the docks and have set up a ride across the lake.”

“Do you want me to meet you in Tulsa?”

“Lexi, no. It’s Christmas. I know how important it is to you and your mom. I’ll be fine. I just needed to tell someone.”

“Okay, sweetie. I love you.”

“Love you too.” Bronte ended the call and let her hand drop to the mattress. She stared at the ceiling, trying to conjure the energy to get up, turn the lights out, and go to bed. Cody would be here in less than four hours to give her a ride to the mainland in his boat.

“God, why does this hurt so bad?” Bronte hadn’t realized how much she wished she had been able to go to the midnight service.

She needed the comfort she remembered feeling as a little girl when she’d gone to church those handful of times.

She had wanted to go as an adult, but fear of possibly being rejected had always kept her from trying.

“I haven’t even known him for that long,” she whispered toward the ceiling, but there was no answer in response. Had she expected there to be one?

How many times had she told herself that God wasn’t a fairy godfather who would wave a wand and make all her pains go away? But just this once, she wished He’d make an exception.

* * *

An alarm was blaring.

Bronte jolted awake, shutting off the alarm on her phone.

When had she fallen asleep? It didn’t matter.

It still felt as if someone had dumped an entire sandbox into each eye before running her over with a dump truck.

The lamp on the side table was still on, and the window still showed a sky painted black.

The alarm started blaring again, and only then did Bronte realize that it wasn’t an alarm blaring but her phone ringing. She’d thought she had turned it off.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Bronte, I’m outside. You ready to go?” Cody greeted her, far too chipper for the time.

Bronte scanned the room quickly, making sure she wasn’t leaving anything behind. “Yeah, sorry. I’ll be right down.”

Bronte splashed water on her face, hoping it’d help with the groggy feeling.

After donning her coat and wrapping her scarf around her neck, she slung her messenger bag over her shoulder and pulled her suitcase behind her, forgetting about the broken wheel.

The suitcase thumped to the side when she pulled.

That was no good. She’d wake the whole house pulling it out the door.

Sighing, she grabbed the handle and stuck out her hip, being careful not to hit the doorframe or any walls in the hallway on her way down the stairs.

“Oh, are you leaving so soon?”

Bronte stifled a scream, remembering, just barely, that the house was still sleeping as she dropped her suitcase to the floor and turned.

One of Jonah’s sisters stood in the hallway, backlit by the kitchen lights. Her sleep pants dotted with Santas made Bronte think of Jonah’s collection of Santa socks. With a pang, Bronte realized she wouldn’t be seeing any more of Jonah’s ridiculous socks.

“Yeah, Cody’s giving me a ride to the docks and then over to the mainland. I have an early flight.” Bronte moved to the door, hoping Jonah didn’t appear. Or maybe she hoped he would appear and ask her to stay, that his dream had changed. But she knew that wasn’t how this ever worked.

“I’m Amy, by the way. I don’t think we got to meet last night.” Amy stepped forward, one hand extended while the other pushed her dark, chin-length hair behind her ear.

Bronte couldn’t tell much about her in the dim light, but Amy’s eyes seemed kind, like Jonah’s, and she was almost the same height as her.

“Bronte.” Bronte took her offered hand, juggling the suitcase so it didn’t fall over in the middle of the hallway.

“Mom?” a girl with her mom’s dark-colored hair whispered, coming out into the hallway.

“This is my daughter Ruby,” Amy said, tucking Ruby under her arm. Ruby was a carbon copy of her mom, just with glasses added.

“I’m sorry. Did I wake you up?”

Ruby shook her head, pushing her glasses up on her nose. “It’s Christmas morning. I wanted to get up before Grandma and make the waffles. But we have to get up super early because Grandma’s an early riser.”

“Why don’t you get the ingredients out on the counter?” Amy said, pressing a kiss to Ruby’s forehead.

“Uncle Jonah and Aunt Holland are asleep on the couches though.”

“They’ll sleep through anything, it’s fine.

Go on, I’ll be there in just a minute.” Amy watched her disappear before turning back to Bronte.

“Are you sure you can’t stick around for just a little longer?

I’m sure Jonah would want to say goodbye.

Or I could go wake him.” She moved like she was going to do just that.

“Oh, no.” Bronte stopped her. “Cody’s already outside waiting. Let Jonah sleep. It was great meeting you.”

“You too,” Amy said as Bronte turned toward the door.

She shouldn’t say anything else but found herself turning back to Amy. “Could you give Jonah a message for me?”

“Of course.”

“Could you tell him Merry Christmas and thanks for letting me crash. And that…I hope he has a lovely life here, with all of you. That he deserves that.” It was all she could get out before tears started stinging the backs of her eyes. She didn’t want to cry anymore.

In the dim light, Amy frowned, but she nodded. “Okay, I’ll tell him.”

Bronte turned back to the door, blinking rapidly against tears.

“Bronte.” Amy’s voice stopped her one more time and Bronte turned. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you too.” Flinging the door open, Bronte gasped when the cold air hit her, making her forget for a moment that she was about to cry.

If all it took for her to forget was almost-below-freezing temps, maybe she should just walk to the docks.

Letting the door click shut behind her, Bronte squared her shoulders and dragged her suitcase to Cody and the waiting golf cart, feeling as if there was something she was forgetting.

She refused to believe it was her heart.