All she had ever wanted for her girls was the kind of confidence that came from security. That was why this move had to work for all of them.
“They are all good, but I tell you, two stand out to me,” Linnea said. “I love that fairy-tale cottage there…”
“That’s mine!” Betsy said. “But there are so many cottages.”
“There are but, if I was Hansel or Gretel, I would definitely choose your cottage to nibble on. And I also love that gothic castle there.”
“You’re only saying that because it’s mine.” The hope in Elsie’s voice squeezed Linnea’s heart.
“No, I’m saying it because it’s true. No one else has attempted anything like it in your age group, it really stands out. I don’t care what the judges say, I am really proud of both of you.”
“Can we look at the other entries?” Betsy asked and Linnea nodded.
“Of course, but don’t forget we can always come back. Santa will be making his way down Main Street soon, and we don’t want to miss that.”
They spent a happy few minutes admiring the other houses. Some of the ones in the older age group were very artistic indeed, and the girls were fascinated by the decoration and the careful cutting out to create the effects.
“I’m going to have to up my baking game,” Linnea said ruefully as she gazed at a particularly intricate model with lattice work cut out of gingerbread and reindeer created out of spun sugar. “Come on, let’s go and find Santa.”
The sidewalk was busier than Linnea had ever seen it, filled with people all dressed up in hats and scarves against the cold, cheeks scarlet with anticipation as much as the winter chill. Putting an arm around both daughters, Linnea attempted to shepherd them out of the building and to find a good spot to see Santa go by, but it wasn’t easy cutting through the crowd.
“Keep hold of me girls.” She reminded them. “I don’t want to lose you in this crowd.”
“I can’t see, Mommy,” Betsy wailed, her face crumpling.
It must be more than a little scary, to be so small and stuck in a sea of people.
Linnea pulled her a little closer. “I know, let’s try and get through here and then I’ll lift you up, okay?” Not that that would help much. Linnea hadn’t been overly blessed with height.
An all-too familiar voice broke through the hubbub. “Hey, Betsy. A little squashed down there?”
“Hi, Nat.” Linnea cursed as the heat immediately rose in her cheeks and her pulse began to race. Every time she saw Nat her traitorous body reacted. It was worse when she ran into him like this, when she wasn’t prepared. Didn’t have her armor on. “Are you here to see Santa too?”
“Never miss a chance to catch up with the big guy. Need to make sure I stay on that nice list.” He grinned down at the girls and they gave tentative smiles back.
“How’s Biscuit?” Betsy tugged at Nat’s sleeve.
“He had kibble and gravy for breakfast and I carried him outside for a very short sniff so all is well in his world. Did you know there are lots of recipes for dog cookies and cakes? Aunt Priscilla is planning on making all his treats from scratch. He is going to be the most spoiled dog in Marietta.”
“Can we see him again?” Elsie asked and Nat nodded.
“Whenever you want. Now, let me see what we can do about this Santa situation. Come on, Betsy. If I lift you up and Elsie, if you wiggle through here, then I think we’ve all got a chance of making eye contact and reminding him just what good people we are.”
And like that the situation was resolved, Betsy wreathed in smiles, and Elsie looking less scared as Nat coaxed, steered, and charmed them into positions near the front of the crowd. Linnea took a steadying breath as she watched Nat joke with the girls, watched them laugh back up at him, watched the awed expressions on all three faces as Santa finally rode by. Her girls had been robbed of their father, and try as hard as she could—and did—it wasn’t easy taking on both roles. Standing back and watching them interact with Nat, watching him take control, was like looking into an alternative universe. One where she hadn’t let cowardice stop her from telling Nat how she felt all those years ago.
That universe didn’t exist. This was what she had. And for the first time in a long time, Linnea wasn’t sure of the right thing to do. It would be so easy to welcome Nat back into her life—if he wanted to be there—but he was leaving in the new year.
Maybe she was overthinking this. Maybe this casual friendship was what she needed. Maybe Nat was the right person at the right time? There were four weeks until Christmas. Not enough time for any permanent damage to be done to anyone’s heart. Maybe, for once, she should allow herself to relax, have fun, and see where, if anywhere, this unexpected reunion led.
Chapter Eleven
Nat had had no plans when he turned up at the stroll. Lacey was working, putting together a segment on Marietta’s Christmas traditions, and the rest of Nat’s family were there buying Christmas presents and enjoying the festivities. Nat had spent his morning working on a song he’d started earlier in the week, unsure what this almost painful compulsion to write meant, especially when the song was as far from his carefully-crafted new brand of radio-friendly country pop as possible. But he couldn’t put it aside.
He’d arrived on Main Street expecting to bump into his parents or Zac, only to see Linnea and the girls struggling to get through the crowd. He hadn’t even considered his actions before striding forward and stepping in. All he’d wanted to do was wipe that harried expression off Linnea’s face, the same compulsion that had propelled him to take over the concert, anchoring him here in Marietta while the PR company his record label used sent him invitation after invitation to parties and premieres at the other end of the country.
“We can’t use a carol concert in Montana,” one exasperated email had read. “It’s completely off brand, Nat. Have until the New Year, but then we really need to get your face back into the gossip magazines before someone hungrier claims your place.”
He was hungry, Nat had wanted to reply. But shouldn’t the music speak for itself? He hadn’t sent that reply. He had never been that naive.
Once Santa had made his way down Main Street and the lighting ceremony had concluded, Nat had prepared to make his apologies, not wanting to intrude on Linnea’s family time. But the words stayed unuttered, Elsie and Betsy assuming that he would be staying with them, towing him along the pavement to show him all the presents they were eying up in the windows of the town stores. To his surprise, Nat found the experience entertaining, enjoying the novelty of buying the girls hot chocolate from Sage’s stall and burgers for them all from the stall operated by the Main Street Diner.
It was strangely easy to fall in with the small family, to take a child’s hand when crossing the road, to answer one of Betsy’s interminable questions, to coax a smile from Elsie, to suggest a treat or an activity. Nat had never thought about having a family before. With his lifestyle it seemed impossible, unless he copied his parents’ example and dragged a family out on the road. It was hard enough not knowing when his next gig would be, what his income was without worrying about a family as well. But the look of joy on Betsy’s face when Santa waved at her had hit him painfully straight in the heart. He had loved their wandering lifestyle, but standing here amongst families creating memories and traditions—helping Linnea create memories and traditions—he couldn’t help wondering if things would have been different if he’d had that stability. If he would have been different. More substantial. No longer the transition guy.
“I just want to check on my parents,” Linnea said as they made their way back up Main Street. “Dad insisted he was fit enough to man the stall today and he is a lot better, but I just want to make sure he’s not overdoing it.”
“How is he?”
“Improving every day. He still gets tired early, but he’s been cleared to return to work.” Her mouth twisted into a wry grin. “I guess this is where it gets real. He’s agreed to let me take over but I thin
k it’s going to take a while for us both to adjust.”
They’d reached the stall by then and Nat hung back as the girls rushed over to greet their grandparents, Linnea following behind them. He had known the older Olsens to say hi to back in school but, thanks to Linnea’s insistence on keeping their relationship secret, he had never spent much time with them. Never picked her up from their front door. Never been invited over for a meal. In fact, he’d never had that kind of relationship with any of his girlfriends’ parents. Watching Zac fit seamlessly into Hathaway family life was bittersweet. Happy as Nat was for Lacey, much as he knew he was loved by his family, it just made him feel more of an outsider than ever.
Dusk was beginning to fall, all around families were enjoying the spectacle, children playing in the street, teens mooching around the stalls, couple shopping together. Here was a real community and for once he was a part of it. For once, he could understand Lacey’s love affair with her hometown, Linnea’s decision to come back.
“How are my girls? Hello, Nat. I heard you’re back in town.” Andreas Olsen held a hand out to Nat who took it, impressed by the strength in the older man’s grip.
“Hello, sir. How’s business?”
“Good, very brisk. You kids been having fun?”
“I saw Santa,” Betsy told her grandfather, her eyes round with awe.
“Did you? Did he give you a hint whether you’re on the good or the bad list?”
“He smiled so I think she might be safe. Two spiced apple punches please, Dad. I’m afraid your grandchildren have already cheated on you and had hot chocolate.” Linnea said.
“From Sage? Why didn’t you bring me one?” Her father’s eyes twinkled down at the girls as he ladled the steaming, rich brew into two cups and handed them to Linnea and Nat. “Although we would have to keep it a secret from your Mormor, she keeps insisting on a low-fat diet.” He winked over at his wife as she finished serving a large group and headed over to hug her family.
“Do you want me to take over for a while?” Linnea suggested. “You can take the girls on a hay ride and then to get their pictures with Santa.”
“Are you sure, dear?”
“We’re quite okay. Don’t feel like you have to.”
Her parents spoke at once. Nat stood back watching the way they rushed to reassure her, his chest tight at the love on their faces. He’d never understood Linnea’s need to spare her family any worry, to always be the perfect daughter. Her parents evidently adored every fiber of her being, would support her no matter what she decided to do.
“I’m quite sure.” Linnea reassured her parents. “I have had lots of fun this evening, and I always loved running the stall, seeing everyone out and about. Go on, I insist. Enjoy yourselves.” She kissed her parents and daughters then ushered them off, her parents still making token protests as they walked away, each with a granddaughter’s hand tucked into theirs.
Nat watched them make their way down the street, Betsy bouncing along next to her grandfather, Elsie walking more sedately, but talking more animatedly than Nat had seen her do before.
He turned back to Linnea. “Your parents seem happy to have you and the girls back.”
“They are. Really happy. It makes me wonder why I was so set on getting away from all this.” She waved a hand that encompassed all of Marietta. “I thought success meant making it in some great capital city. That a Yale degree and an apartment in New York would prove I was special in a way that a job here never would. Now I wonder why. Why I wanted to get away from people who only ever wanted my happiness.”
At that moment, a family came over to the stall and Nat handed Linnea the paper cups as she fulfilled their order, waiting until they walked away before continuing the conversation.
“Seeing you here with your family, you are so loved. It’s hard to imagine that they ever put that kind of pressure on you.”
“Oh, they didn’t.” Linnea shook her head wildly as if trying to dispel the very suggestion. “They are amazing, they always have been. I mean, obviously they were delighted I got into Yale, but they would have been happy with community college if that’s what I wanted. They supported everything I did. Didn’t say a word when I got pregnant, or got married when I was barely out of my teens, when I settled hundreds of miles away and saw them twice a year at the most, raising their only grandchildren so far away. All I ever wanted was to make them proud and then I failed so spectacularly.” Linnea leaned over the barrel of cider and stirred it vigorously.
Nat stared at her in disbelief. “Failed? Not at all from what I can see. If making them proud was your aim, then I think you’ve achieved that in spades, Linnea. They love you. It was clear back in high school and it’s even clearer now.”
“I hope so. I’m all they have. I have to be enough.”
Nat narrowed his eyes as he watched her, her color high, hair whipped by the breeze. How had she never seen that she wasn’t just enough, she was their everything? “Did they want a big family?”
She stirred harder, inhaling the sweet cinnamon and apple smell, a scent that always evoked Marietta at Christmas. “They did, it just never happened. And by the time they decided to adopt they were already in their forties and so they only adopted one child. Me. It’s such a shame. They had so much love to give and only me to focus on.”
“I don’t think they would consider it a shame,” he said softly.
Linnea didn’t answer for a while, stirring harder. “I was nearly two when they got me. Dad said I was as skittish as a foal. That it took me a month to smile, longer for me to relax into a hug. I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for them; I don’t remember any of it—and I don’t know much more. It was a closed adoption.”
There was a wealth of unspoken feeling in those words and Nat winced at the pain in Linnea’s eyes. “You never wanted to find out more?”
“No, I don’t think I’d like the answers. To have been that age with the adoption closed? I don’t think there’s a fairy tale waiting out there. It would more be like opening Pandora’s box. Besides, I have parents. I don’t need or want any others. To be honest, I’ve always felt lucky that I didn’t end up bouncing round the care system, that even though I was no longer a tiny baby I still got a home.” She paused, turning to look Nat straight in the eyes. “I once heard an aunt, on my dad’s side, telling another aunt how lucky my parents were, but that it was still such a risk, taking in a child, that my parents could be anyone, could have done anything. That it could never be the same as having a child of their own.”
Nat couldn’t respond straight away, rage, ice cold and hard, hitting him. “How dare anyone say that?”
Her smile was tremulous. “They didn’t know I could hear.”
“That isn’t really the point, how old were you?”
“Seven,” she admitted.
“And that’s why you felt you had to be the world’s most perfect daughter.” It all made sense now.
Her burning ambition, the way she got involved in everything, ran everything, desperate to show the world she deserved her family. He’d always taken his parents love for granted. Assumed most people did.
“I needed to show them that they’d made a good choice. That’s what they’d told me, when I was little. That they’d picked me because I was special. I just never wanted them to regret that. Hi, how can I help you?” Linnea turned to the waiting customer with a smile leaving Nat still seething at the effect some careless, thoughtless words had had on her.
The next couple of hours were hectic. Nat stayed on the stall to give Linnea a hand, finding the work surprisingly enjoyable as he charmed customers of all ages, praising the cider to anyone who would listen, sometime in song.
“There is no better way to welcome glad tidings than with Olsen’s best apple cider.” He sang out to a group of elderly women who giggled, blushed—and then bought half Linnea’s stock. By the time the stroll began to wind down, the vats of cider were empty, the order book satisfactorily full, and Nat
realized he hadn’t had such an uncomplicated good time in a really long while. And that he didn’t want the evening to end. Not yet.
Chapter Twelve
Linnea hadn’t expected Nat to stay all evening, but she was glad he had. Not only had the stroll been too busy for one person to deal with all the orders, but he’d been good company, making the hours fly by, sometimes Linnea had found herself laughing helplessly in a way she hadn’t for a long, long time. Now the streets were beginning to empty, she turned to him, knowing she needed to thank him and let him get on with his weekend. “Thanks so much, Nat…”
“Let me tidy up.” Her mother materialized at her side, the truck keys in her hand, “Your father has taken the girls home. You go and do whatever it is young people do when the stroll winds down.”
“Mom, there’s far too much for one person to do,” Linnea protested, even as her heart gave a skip of relief.
“Your cousin’s on his way to help. Shoo. Go. Have fun. It’s Saturday night and Christmas has begun. Live a little, Linnea. You deserve to.”
Linnea turned to Nat, suddenly a little shy. “You don’t have to wait around.”
“You mean you’re happy for me to do all the work, but not reap the rewards?” Nat shook his head, his eyes gleaming under the street lamps. “I always knew you were a hard woman, Linnea Olsen.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it. Okay, Nat Hathaway. What do you want to do?”
“Walk?” He suggested and she nodded.
“That sounds good. I’d like to see the lights.”
She kissed her mother, grabbed her bag, and left the stall, her heart hammering with an anticipation she didn’t want to name, to acknowledge. By an unspoken consensus they turned right and began to wander down Main Street, their steps in perfect unison.
Their Christmas Carol (Big Sky Hathaways Book 2) Page 8