by Dani Collins
“How are his levels?” Quincy asked as Atlas scooted off his chair and left to go upstairs. Quincy had been meaning to glance over his father’s pump log himself.
“Everything has been much better the last couple of days. I think with the move and… Well, I can imagine you’ve all been under stress as you adjust.”
Quincy saw curiosity in her eyes, but knowledge, too. He instinctively withdrew, mouth tightening. He reached to make a tiny adjustment with one limb of the tree, but felt her gaze on him, trying to lock-pick his mind.
“I didn’t mean to…” Nicki started to say, then turned up her palm. “It’s just your father told me you didn’t know about Atlas—”
“I wish he hadn’t.” Quincy relived the judgmental stares as the news had made the rounds at work.
He’d had to tell a few people. HR for instance, and the president, when he asked if he could work remotely. He thought everyone he’d told had been trustworthy, but by the time he had left, everyone had been sending him sideways looks.
“The reason I moved here was so I wouldn’t have to make explanations to strangers.”
Her shoulders went back and her ever-present smile dried up. “I was hoping you were seeing me as a friend, but okay. I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to pry.”
Now he’d hurt her feelings. He could see it in the way she tried to pretend she wasn’t hurt, lifting her chin and pressing her lips flat, avoiding his gaze as she swept it across this ridiculous tree she had him making.
The tree that was forcing him to spend time with his son—in a good way. As much as he was mentally disparaging these little activities of hers, he was glad to have something to do with Atlas. It wasn’t like he could get to know him over a beer.
Every time he showed Atlas some little thing, he thought of all his own father had taught him. Eventually, he would cycle through all those other bigger lessons, too. The proper way to hold a football, how to keep tools organized, and why it was important to be honest, especially with yourself.
“I’m embarrassed,” he admitted, frustration tightening his tone. It came with a helping of shame.
Her lashes came up.
It was his turn to look away before he met the sticky dark gold of her gaze.
“Because you weren’t married? That’s not uncommon.”
“Because I don’t know why she got pregnant. Whether it was accidental or on purpose. Her parents seem to think it was intentional, but she didn’t seem like a manipulative or dishonest person.” He scratched his fingers through his beard, trying to release the tension that clenched his jaw every time he tried to make sense of being a father out of the blue like this. “I don’t want to believe she used me to get pregnant, but if it just happened, why didn’t she tell me? I don’t even know why she broke up with me. I thought we were getting along fine.”
That was too much. He hadn’t even shared that much with his father.
He chanced a look at Nicki. Thankfully, her expression was not one of pity or suspicion. She only wore a perplexed frown.
“Her parents said she did it on purpose? How did you meet her?”
He glanced toward the stairs, aware Pops and Atlas could be coming down any second, but he couldn’t keep this bottled.
“Online.” He was uncomfortable admitting that, but it had been a reputable site. He didn’t go to bars, didn’t belong to any clubs, and his workplace was dominated by men. “I just wanted…”
Someone in his life. Why did it seem weak to admit that?
“I said in my profile that I didn’t want kids and she said the same.”
“Maybe it was an accident, but she thought if you didn’t want kids, you’d be upset? That you might reject him?”
“I wouldn’t. Obviously.” He waved at where Pops was speaking to Atlas, voice growing louder as they made their way down toward them.
*
Nicki wasn’t ready for this conversation to be over. She was learning too much about Quincy.
She found a smile when she saw Atlas had his little fist wrapped firmly around Maury’s index finger.
“Did you have a good chat with your friend?” she asked Maury.
“I did,” Maury replied, nodding with satisfaction. “He still lives out on the ranch. His son runs it with his wife and his nephew. They invited me for a visit if the weather is good later in the week.”
“Oh, maybe we could drop you when we go to the toboggan party at the Canon place?”
“That might work out perfectly.”
“The snack is on the table. I’ll be right in.” She watched them disappear into the kitchen, then looked up at Quincy.
He was wearing his, Why are you still here? frown.
“Atlas is really lucky to have you,” she told him sincerely. “Both of you.”
He snorted and looked away. “Don’t. I know I’m lousy at fatherhood. I’m embarrassed by that, too.” His gaze dropped so all she saw was the line of his short, spiky lashes. His mouth was tight.
“Have you talked to other parents? Lots of my friends have kids. Not a single one of them feels like they know what they’re doing.”
He glanced at her like he suspected she was putting him on.
“Check online. Read some parenting websites. Ask your dad.” She thought of Maury confessing he had made mistakes. “There’s this myth that parenting comes naturally, that if you have a child, you know what to do. That’s not true. My father loves me, I know he does, but he didn’t know what to do with me. We had a good little run from the time I was out of diapers and before he had to admit I was a girl. I played T-ball, and he was my biggest fan. But as soon as I started doing school plays and wanted dance lessons?” She blew out a puff of exasperation. “By puberty, he pretty much washed his hands and left me to Gloria—my stepmom. Maybe he was afraid he would make mistakes, so he didn’t try. I don’t know.”
She chewed her lip, working through that idea as she spoke it aloud.
“He was pretty devastated at losing Mom and I was heartbroken. He’s a simple guy, too. Fixes and operates big equipment, opens a can of beans for dinner, and watches the sports highlights. I know he married Gloria for me. He thought he was giving me someone who knew how to cook and braid hair and wasn’t afraid to buy feminine products. Which isn’t to say he doesn’t love her. He does. They’re actually a really good match. He would have been lonely after I left if he hadn’t had her.”
With a sheepish glance up at him, she admitted, “Talk about embarrassed. I’m ashamed to say I didn’t give her much of a chance. She raises dogs and gets along great with animals, but she’s not a natural mom. She wasn’t my mom. I was angry with her for that, and really hard on her. She did her best. At least Atlas is open to you. He wants you to fill the void inside him. As long as you’re giving him time, attention, and love, you’re doing great as a parent.”
His gaze went to the art project she had forced on him. “I still feel like I should know more. That I should know what’s right.”
She wanted to laugh aloud at how he had over-engineered this painfully simple task, trying so hard to get it right. It said everything about the kind of man he was, how much care he was putting into the very complex and daunting task he faced in raising his son.
She wanted to hug him, but she only said with a straight face, “People who are naturally smart always think they should know more than they do. When you’re only moderately intelligent like me, you expect less of yourself. It’s a much happier way to live.”
He stared at her, perhaps trying to work out if he was complimented or insulted.
“Pretty women are never as dumb as they pretend to be,” he said, then quickly looked away. “Or so I’ve been told. I should get to work.”
“Me, too.” She turned away before he saw her blush and read the way he’d made her pulse flutter.
He thought she was pretty?
December 10th
The Canons knew how to throw a winter party. They had a hay wagon ready as people arrive
d and the bonfire was already burning at the bottom of the slopes. Tables were set up with wieners and roasting sticks, buns and condiments, cocoa, and all the other treats that guests brought for sharing.
Mother Nature helped by providing a perfect bowl where the bigger kids could scream down long hills without hitting trees. A much smaller, gentler incline kept the little ones busy. The sky was pale with low clouds, but there was no wind. The temperature had evened out to merely chilly, not biting.
Spirits were high and the crowd of families and neighbors welcoming.
Liz introduced Nicki around while Quincy helped Atlas make several short runs. Now Quincy stood alone on the far side of the fire. His gaze stayed sharply on Atlas as he came down one of the big slopes with Liz’s teenaged daughter, Petra.
Petra dragged her heels to keep the speed down as the toboggan descended alongside Liz’s stepson, Ethan, who had Lucy in front of him.
Atlas was beaming, having the time of his life.
His father? Maybe not so much.
“Please come meet my boss,” Nicki said to Piper and her husband.
The couple had just arrived on the second wave of wagon riders.
“Quincy, this is Piper and Sebastian Bloom. Piper’s parents are my landlords.”
“Call me Bastian.” Piper’s husband reached to shake Quincy’s hand. He was as blond and gorgeous as his sister, Liz, and he might have been intimidatingly masculine if he wasn’t wearing a baby in a sling inside his open jacket. “This is Isabelle.” He lifted the receiving blanket draped over her sleeping face. “Not a beer belly.”
“Nice to meet you,” Quincy said, polite, if distant. His gaze hung up very briefly on the birthmark on Piper’s face before he nodded to where the kids were gliding to a stop at the bottom of the hill. “My son, Atlas.”
Petra held Atlas’s hand as she brought him over. She was in her first year of college, but looked younger, not wearing makeup and gamboling with the middle-schoolers as though she was one of them. She gave the adults a friendly but distracted smile as she approached, eyes fixed on the bump on Bastian’s chest. She leaned close to whisper, “Hi, baby. I missed you.”
“I used to be her favorite,” Bastian said with a pained sigh. “Now I have competition from all these babies.”
“And boyfriends,” Piper said with a sly grin, making her husband wince.
“One,” Bastian said in a mock growl at Petra. “Please tell me there’s still only Flynn.”
“You’ll always be my favorite uncle,” Petra assured him, giving his cheek a loud, smacking kiss. “But my list of favorite kids grew today. Atlas wants to go again.” She still had hold of his mitted hand and smiled down at him. “We came over to make sure that’s okay?”
Quincy gave a short nod. “If you don’t mind.”
“Happy to. We’re having fun. Aren’t we, Atlas? We’re racing Lucy.”
“She winned,” Atlas said.
“We’ll win this time, though, won’t we?”
Atlas shook his head.
“No? You want her to win again?”
He nodded.
“Mom said he was adorable.” Petra glanced at the adults with a helpless look. “I might have to keep him. Come on, then. Maybe we can use the big toboggan and all ride together.”
“He is adorable,” Piper agreed as she watched them walk away, then turned her attention to Quincy. “My parents said you used to live here?”
“My father did.”
Nicki recognized the look on Piper’s face. She had worn it herself a time or two, wondering if that was really all Quincy planned to offer by way of communication.
Rather than leave him on the spot, she jumped in with, “Maury told me he wished he’d raised Quincy here. I’m biased, being from a small town myself, but I think Marietta is a great place for a family. I’ll guess that you both agree since your husband probably misses the sunshine in California.”
“We do love it here. But are you going to stay?” Piper asked Nicki. “Mom said you were only renting until Christmas and going back to Glacier Creek for the holidays. What about after that?”
“I’m spending Christmas with my dad and stepmom, yes. Then it depends on where I find work. I’m only looking in Montana for now. Jacqui said there was an outreach clinic looking for home support workers in Kalispell. I’m going to check that out.”
That sparked a conversation about Jacqui.
“She’s engaged!” Nicki told her. “I was so surprised to hear that when, you know, she just lost Russ last year. I don’t know her fiancé. He moved to Glacier Creek after I left. I don’t go back much, but he’s a smoke jumper. That has to be scary for her, after the way Russ died, but she sounds really happy.”
“Vin, right? We met him when we were there in the spring.” Piper’s voice was warm with approval. “He seemed like a sweetheart. I thought he was her boyfriend, but she said there was nothing going on between them, that they were just friends. I knew there was something, though. You can tell when a couple has chemistry.” Her gaze flicked to Quincy and came back to Nicki’s with a shade of smug amusement.
No. Really. Nicki felt her cheeks warm and feared she’d somehow given away her attraction toward her boss. Seriously. Nothing, she wanted to insist, but held back from acknowledging the suspicion.
Piper drew her over to meet one of her friends, Skye, who arrived on horseback from the ranch next door, doubling with her husband, who was none other than Chase Goodwin, the professional baseball player Maury had mentioned. Chase had grown up here, and even though he had to be as rich as any top professional athlete, he was as down to earth as they came.
Not long after, Bastian stole Piper to feed Isabelle. Nicki made her way back to where Quincy stood alone again.
“Are you hating this?” she asked him.
“No.” He frowned. “Why?”
“I don’t know. I get the impression you don’t like meeting new people.”
“Atlas is having fun.”
Nice dodge.
“He is,” she agreed, looking at the smile that hadn’t left the boy’s ruddy face.
“You like meeting new people,” he observed.
“I do.” She couldn’t deny it, but wondered if he disapproved. She searched his expression.
“Why?” he repeated, more as a joke, she thought, and it did make her sputter a light laugh.
“I don’t know. I guess I’m an extrovert. Even before I wanted to act, I liked meeting people and hearing about their lives. It always seemed so much more exciting than my tiny life in a tiny trailer in a tiny town. Then I realized there was a job where you could take on other personas and live a completely different life, never having to commit fully to one track. You could change your mind and be someone else if you wanted to. It seemed ideal.”
He eyed her, his brows pulled together. “A coping strategy for your grief over losing your mother?”
“Pretty transparent, huh?”
He shrugged. “Was it a secret? Do you have any?”
She suspected he was teasing her for being a chatterbox, but she found herself admitting, “Failure.”
His dark gaze swept back to hers.
“Why do you think I’m so determined to make this little family of yours work? If I don’t succeed at this new career, I’ll be a very big loser indeed.”
“Is that what we are? A project you have to complete for a gold star?” Beneath his neutral exterior, he turned to granite.
“No,” she said firmly. “Not at all. I identify too strongly with Atlas to be that cavalier. But I do want to…” She drew a breath and slowly exhaled as she tried to put her thoughts together. “I want to leave knowing that I helped you. Which is arrogant, now that I hear it said aloud. You and Atlas will work out your relationship one way or another. It’s between you regardless. But I would still like to think I—”
“Played a part?” he cut in.
She started to agree, but saw a flash of something in his expression. A smirk til
ted one corner of his mouth.
“Was that a pun? A joke? You finally unpacked the box with your sense of humor in it?”
“It was labeled ‘Stuff I don’t use’. I forgot I owned one.”
That did make her laugh, openly and with great enjoyment.
He barely cracked a smile and kept his gaze on his son, but his expression softened. The big goof ball.
She folded her arms so she wouldn’t throw them around him in a giant hug of exuberance, worked on collecting herself, then felt as though she vibrated simply because she stood next to him, aligned beside him. She didn’t let herself smile like a world-class fool, but she wanted to.
She stared across the tableau of winter fun, pockets of people mingling, children’s bright clothing streaking down the runnels cut into the snow. The edges of the hilltops looked like they were cut from pale blue construction paper and pasted onto the flat, dove-gray sky. Fire smoke rose in a lazy stream, painting the air with the scent of roasting wieners and marshmallows. Laughter rang out with squeals and the hum of conversation.
It was one of those moments in life that were too perfect and made her a teensy bit melancholy. She felt like she was on a movie set, the first big production of her life. And since this wasn’t really her life, she felt like a walk-on extra who wouldn’t have any lines and wouldn’t return despite the fact it was an ongoing series.
She might be playing a part, but it was a very, very small one.
Her heart clenched.
“I was taking myself too seriously anyway,” she said, giving a kick of her toe into the snow, hearing the constriction in her voice. “It’s good you made me laugh it off.”
For a moment, he said nothing, just stood there as unmoving and isolated as one of the carved mountains looming over them.
“You are helping.” His tone was quiet. He didn’t look at her, but the sincerity in his voice reached into her and pinged her heart.
She still felt small and wistful and temporary.
*
Quincy saw Nicki’s point about library books. This recent batch was only a couple of days old, but he was already thinking of taking Atlas into town to choose some fresh ones.