His patience with the children. The way he had volunteered to help with the concert without a second thought, giving up most of his evenings to it. The gentleness in his voice when he spoke to Biscuit. The way he’d sat by the dog in the dark and the cold. The look of sheer relief when he had staggered in from the snow, Elsie in his arms.
Nat hadn’t just stepped out of his comfort zone for her; he had jumped out, knowingly and willingly.
Once she had let him go because she was too proud, too scared to tell him how she felt. Was she going to make the same mistake again?
She needed to put the girls first. But she also needed to teach them to reach for what they wanted. How could she do that if she wasn’t willing to put her own heart on the line?
She had to at least tell him how she felt. She owed him that. Owed herself that. She couldn’t let him leave town a second time without being honest. The rest was up to him.
Linnea almost forgot her troubles when she reached the Graff. The old hotel had been immaculately restored and was always impressive, but it was particularly picturesque over the festive season, lights tastefully strung through the imposing Christmas trees outside and beautiful delicate lights hung throughout the marble and wood-paneled lobby, almost matching the grand chandelier in their brightness.
“Hi, Linnea.” Walker Wilder, the event planner who had been helping them with the concert, smiled at her. “We’re all set up, come on through. Lacey’s waiting for you. She’s got the cameras ready, so we just need to see what you think before she finalizes their positions.”
Linnea had been inside the ballroom when she had first planned the event. It was always an imposing space, but an empty ballroom and one set up for an event were two very different things and the room took her breath away. The stage at one end had a lavishly decorated Christmas tree on either side and the chairs were set out facing it in long rows.
“The concert’s a sell-out,” Walker continued as she pointed out the wreaths and garlands bedecking the room. “The mistletoe is there,” she said, indicating a sprig above one of the doorways. “For our festivities. The hotel is full through Christmas and we have a lot of fun activities planned.”
The white berries looked so innocent. Would any sweethearts kiss beneath it?
Lacey was still checking the camera angles when Linnea found her. She had set one up at the side of the stage and another at the end of the ballroom. “I’ll only have an hour to cut some footage together after the concert,” she said as she greeted Linnea with a kiss. “But hopefully I’ll do us justice. Did you hear we sold out?”
“Walker said.” Linnea pressed a hand to her stomach.
This was her first public event since moving back to Marietta, she’d certainly decided to announce she was home in style. She surveyed the glistening room. Dozens of children, several hundred guests, and an ambitious fundraising target.
She double-checked the arrangements for taking tickets, the raffle table filled with goodies donated by local businesses; a hamper from Olsen’s, of course, a magnificent cake from Crooked Corner, a box of Sage’s best chocolates, Christmas decorations from Jilian Parker, vouchers for all the restaurants and bars and the cinema. No one could accuse Marietta folk of not getting behind a community event. All they needed were the children—and the musical director. She looked at the stage again, but there was still no sign of Nat.
“He’ll be here soon.” Lacey said knowingly and Linnea flushed.
“I was just thinking how amazing it’s going to look when it’s full in here,” she said, hoping her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt.
“It’s going to be quite the occasion,” Lacey agreed. She paused. “Look, I don’t want to speak out of turn, Linnea, and, please, tell me to mind my own business, but I’ve known Nat a long time, and I’ve only ever known him write music the way he is right now once before—and that was at the end of senior year.” She gave an embarrassed grin as she walked away, leaving Linnea staring after her, her stomach churning in fear, in anticipation—and in hope.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The concert was everything Nat had hoped it would be—with one notable exception. Linnea wasn’t by his side, they weren’t exchanging enchanted glances when Elsie’s solo soared out over the rapt audience, nor amused ones when the little ones nativity tableau ended up with the donkey pushing Joseph into the manger.
But apart from that it was perfect. The carols rang out as clear and true as they had in that English cathedral all those years ago, the descants inspiring exactly the awestruck faces and tear-filled eyes Nat had been hoping for. Mrs. Hoffmann, sat regally in front, visibly crumpling when the choir sang “O Tannenbaum” in the original German.
The children looked otherworldly, in their long cloaks, lit only by candles, accompanied only by a piano and sometimes Lacey’s violin, soaring over the room. It was almost too much and the change of pace when the middle and high school singers discarded their capes to reveal bright fifties costumes and treated the room to several classic tunes from the movies accompanied by the high school orchestra was perfectly timed. The choir all came together to finish with “White Christmas” and the applause was absolutely rapturous as the audience gratifyingly rose to their feet. The tension Nat hadn’t realized he was holding within him untwisted as he strode onto the stage to take his bow.
“Thank you everyone,” he said easily, an audience like this never fazed him. “I’d like to thank a few people if you don’t mind.” He hoped he had remembered everyone as he mentioned the staff from the Graff, the music teachers, the parents who had helped with refreshments, Lacey, sponsors, ending up reminding people to buy raffle tickets.
“In a minute,” he said. “We are going to treat you to a Marietta supergroup for one night only. As many of you know my parents have spent their lives performing as The Copper Mountain Trio—and, yes, there are only two of them. I have been known to play a little as well and you’ve already heard Lacey tonight. You’ll be glad to hear it’s not a purely Hathaway affair, however. The Graff Hotel’s very own Shane Knight has agreed to join us on bass and vocals and Jake and Magdalena Kohl will also be singing and playing guitar.” He waited for the cheering to subside, it wasn’t often Marietta got to hear their very own country star sing.
“But before that I want to say the biggest thank-you to the woman who made this possible. I’m sure that many of you remember Linnea Olsen, and, if so, the fact she decided to pull together a concert like this within a week of returning to Marietta won’t surprise you, and that she has done it in just two months while taking over her family orchard and raising two children will surprise you even less. What you may not know is that behind the spreadsheets and timetables is one of the biggest hearts I have ever met. I’m sure this won’t be the last Marietta Christmas Carol Concert, but I’m sure we can agree that it will probably be the most memorable.”
He looked to the side of the stage where Linnea stood, a daughter on either side, and their gazes locked. “I’m not really one for words,” Nat said, apprehension rising at the thought of how emotionally exposed he was about to be.
Had he misjudged, was he making a colossal mistake?
No. Everything worth having was worth hurting for, fighting for. Lacey was right, he had never needed to learn that before. It was time he did.
“I tend to express myself best in song,” he continued. “And if you’ll indulge me, I’d like to debut a new song I’ve been working on here in Marietta tonight, and dedicate it to Linnea.”
She started, her eyelashes fluttering down to hide her expression as Elsie and Betsy squealed. Nat picked up his guitar and looked out over the audience. His parents were at the side, waiting to come on, a smiling Lacey and Zac next to them, his great aunts sat in the front row, both beaming approvingly up at him. Further back, he could see his grandparents and his aunt and uncle, supporting his cousin Tilly who he had roped into the choir despite her protestations. Everyone he loved and cared about was in this room watch
ing him open his heart for the first time ever.
Nat took a deep breath and struck a chord. “Linnea, thank you for all that you do, for all that you are. This is a song about looking for home, not realizing that it’s right in front of you. A song about seeing what’s been right in front of you all the time.” He struck another chord and then began to pick out the melody. He looked out and began to sing.
“I always wanted to fly.
A bird on the wing.
But you make me yearn for home.
I’m tamed by your loving.”
The room fell away. There was only Nat, his guitar, and Linnea, her eyes filled with tears and fixed on him. What happened next was down to her, but Nat would never regret telling her how he felt. Never stop loving her.
*
Linnea had no idea how long the supergroup played for, barely registered the thanks and Christmas wishes as the crowd finally dispersed after an ecstatic reaction to the hastily-formed band. She mechanically agreed when her mother told her she was taking the girls home—and suggested she invite Nat back for dinner. Finally, she said goodbye to Walker and to a beaming Lacey and then she turned, her chest so tight she could barely breathe, her throat choked with emotion.
Nat was leaning against the stage, his guitar in his hand, looking straight at her, his blue eyes burning with desire. Desire for her. Linnea stood, pinned to the spot, as he purposefully put his guitar down and made his way over to her.
“That was some concert,” he said.
“That was some song.”
“Did you like it?”
Linnea shook her head as she searched for the right words. “It felt like coming home.”
“Yes? That’s how it makes me feel too.”
Nat hadn’t taken his eyes off hers and she was unable to look away.
“I’m sorry, Nat.”
“You don’t—” he began, but she hurried over him.
“I do. I was so angry at myself. So scared. And I blamed you for distracting me. I seem to make a habit of that. I should have thanked you. For finding Elsie. For being there.”
“Anytime. You’re not the only one who needs to apologize. I shouldn’t have run away. Not back then, not last week. You deserve better than a man who just gives up. You deserve someone who will fight for you.”
“I don’t think you ran last week, I sent you away.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t make it easy.”
“No.” His mouth quirked into a smile. “That’s half the challenge. The truth is, Linnea, I never felt good enough for you.”
She stared at him, startled.
“I knew my place, the perfect first boyfriend. The perfect short-term boyfriend. A great cure for heartbreak. An easy way back into dating. I never thought I was anything more.”
Shame flooded through her, hot and uncomfortable. “I should never have said that.”
“Why not? You were right. I never demanded anymore from myself. Never allowed myself to go any deeper so why should you have looked for it? But it’s time to stop running, Linnea. Time to work out who I am, what I’m capable of. Work out if I’m as good a long-term prospect as I am a good-time guy. What do you think?”
“I think any woman would be lucky to have you.” Hope replaced the shame, no less painful, but so much sweeter. “Any woman, any family, any community. Look at the concert, you were amazing. The kids loved you.”
“Think they’ll let me help next year?”
The hope intensified, a strong pulse, weakening her legs, turning her stomach into a molten swirl, filling her heart. Did this mean he was planning on returning? Surely he couldn’t sing to her like that, look at her like that, and then leave for another ten years? “I’m sure we can arrange something.”
Slowly, but surely she was backing up, Nat keeping pace as if they were dancing, a lone waltz in the empty ballroom.
Linnea bit her lip, thrilling at the way his eyes followed her every move hungrily. “Nat, I wanted to let you know… I didn’t just want to apologize. I couldn’t let you go without saying goodbye. Without telling you…”
“Hold that thought. I don’t want you saying anything under false pretences.” By this point, Linnea had backed up right against one of the panelled walls and she steadied herself, her heart hammering in anticipation. “I’ve decided it’s time this rolling stone got nice and mossy. That it’s time I grew up. That nice as partying in Nashville and LA and New York is I don’t need to see my name in the gossip columns, that if my music doesn’t speak for itself then maybe it’s not the right music. That a person can tour and promote, but still have a home. Still need a home.”
Linnea tried to make sense of his words, the hope now so intense she was quivering with it. Maybe this time she got a second chance after all. “You’re staying in Marietta?”
“That’s the plan. I’m done running, Linnea. I’m getting a place of my own. Just a condo to start out with for me and Biscuit. Lacey and Zac always wanted to make the Summer House a creative hub, I’m going to have a studio and a music room there, but I’m twenty-eight. I need my own space. My own stuff. My own bed.” His eyes darkened as he said the last word and Linnea licked her lips to moisten her suddenly dry mouth. “I’ll still have to travel, tour, but I’ll always come back, Linnea. To you, to the girls, I’ll be there for you.” His face was very serious. “I promise.”
Almost without conscious thought, Linnea reached up and drew her hand down his stubbled cheek, running a finger over his top lip. “You’re staying.” She repeated, the more she said the words, the more real they became.
“Linnea, I want to start again. I want to start from scratch. Show up at your door in a suit with a corsage in a box and take you to prom. Buy you burgers at the diner and then take you to the movie theater and kiss you in the back row. Drive you to a parking spot and kiss you all night long until we forget your curfew. I want to get to know your family and for you to get to know mine. I want us to date and then I want us to go steady. I want to do it properly this time. To woo you as you deserve to be wooed.”
Blinking back tears, Linnea absorbed his words, her hand still on his cheek. “No more secrets.” She vowed. “I want everyone to know we are together. I want to hold your hand on Main Street and sit with your arm around me at the game. I want to forget that I was ever too proud to admit I had fallen for you, because I did. I have. I have fallen for you, Nat Hathaway.”
“I can’t tell you how glad I am to hear that, because I am head over heels crazy for you, Linnea Olsen and I don’t care who knows it. And when we’ve gone steady for a while, I’m planning on asking you to marry me. Maybe in your parents’ orchard. We had some memorable times in that orchard…”
“When you do,” she told him, her voice shaking, “I am planning on saying yes.”
“Look…” Nat took a tiny step close so their bodies touched, Linnea’s whole being pulling toward him like he was her North Pole. “We’re standing under mistletoe.”
“It’s a sign.” Linnea breathed and he nodded agreement, resting his forehead on hers.
“We’re lucky enough to have a second chance,” he said. “I promise not to waste it. I know it won’t be easy. I know the girls come first, but I’ll do whatever it takes to show you—and them—that I’ll always be there when it counts, that you can rely on me.”
“I know we can, Nat.” She swallowed, the unsaid words heavy on her tongue. “I love you. I loved you back then and I love you now.”
“I love you too, Linnea. This Christmas and next Christmas and for all the Christmases to come. You brought me home, you are my home.”
“Merry Christmas.” Linnea gazed up at him, scarcely believing this was real.
“Merry Christmas, Linnea.” Finally, he lowered his mouth to hers, his kiss sweet and gentle. Linnea melted into it, melted into him. Secure in the knowledge this was the first of a lifetime of Christmases together. Nat had come home—and so had she.
The End
Eager for more? Check out the
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Big Sky Hathaways Series!
Book 1: Baking for Keeps
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Book 2: Their Christmas Carol
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About the Author
An ex au-pair, bookseller, marketing manager and seafront trader, Jessica now works for an environmental charity in York. Married with one daughter, one fluffy dog and two dog-loathing cats she spends her time avoiding housework and can usually be found with her nose in a book. Jessica writes emotional romance with a hint of humour, a splash of sunshine and a great deal of delicious food – and equally delicious heroes.
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Their Christmas Carol (Big Sky Hathaways Book 2) Page 17