The thought of waking up beside Nancy made him determined to break through her resistance. Their friendship was unquestionable. Their attraction was undeniable. Why was she resisting what they both wanted? He could see her need for him in her eyes. It was right there in her expression each time she looked at him. And yet, there was something inside Nancy Grayson’s heart that was stopping her from welcoming a love she richly deserved.
His reflection in the bathroom mirror assured Dawson that his features weren’t off-putting. His ears were even and didn’t stick out. He had a manly nose that fit his face, but wasn’t crooked or hawkish. In his opinion, his features were common. He had a squared chin in need of a shave, evenly spaced eyes with moderately heavy eyebrows, straight brown hair graying at the temples. The sparkle in Nancy’s eyes suggested she liked what she saw when she looked at him. She’d even told him once that he was an incredibly handsome man and that he was tempting her unfairly each time he gazed into her eyes.
The memory of that day made Dawson smile. They had rowed up Crane River and picnicked on the grassy riverbank with Adam and Rebecca. Dawson and Nancy had spent much of the day alone while Adam and Rebecca fished upriver and tried to find their way back to each other. Dawson and Nancy had walked the shore and lazed on a blanket, talking and laughing and falling in love. She might not be ready to admit it yet, but he knew what he’d seen in her eyes that day… and during their many moments together at Crane Landing, and even here in Fredonia when he’d attended Adam and Rebecca’s wedding.
So why was Nancy resisting his marriage proposal? It wasn’t as if she’d just lost her husband. She’d been widowed twenty-four years ago. It didn’t make sense to deny what was right in front of her eyes—that Dawson loved her.
Initially, he hadn’t known what to make of his feelings for Nancy. They were so bright that he could only view them with his eyes squinted. It had taken him some time away from her, three months of living alone and missing her every moment of every day, for him to realize that he had fallen in love with Nancy Grayson—and that he wanted to spend the rest of his days with her at his side.
And so eight weeks ago he’d come back to Fredonia with Leo Sullivan, who was following a lead on his missing siblings. During that short two-day trip Dawson had asked Nancy to marry him.
His proposal had stunned her.
She’d asked for time to think about it.
Now he was back for the Christmas holiday—and he needed an answer.
Neither of them could move on with their lives while that question dangled between them. She needed to decide the direction of her life before he left this time. Before that moment arrived, he was going to do everything possible to help her find her way to a resolution she could live with. He wasn’t trying to take her away from her life. He wanted to become part of her life. But how could he make her understand that they could share their lives and enjoy both worlds, his cottage in Crane Landing and her cozy home in Fredonia? More importantly, he needed to make her realize that they could expand their lives with travel and adventure, that they still had many wonderful, enjoyable years ahead of them.
But she had never let go of her first husband, and Dawson wasn’t sure she could.
Deep in thought, he washed his face and scraped a razor over the rough stubble of a day-old beard. He ran a warm washcloth around his neck and under his arms. With a couple of strokes of his wet hands over his unruly hair, he headed back to the bedroom and pulled on his trousers and a clean shirt.
He tugged on a pair of slippers he’d found under the edge of the bed, and then hustled to the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee.
After years of taking care of himself, he easily lit the stove and started the coffee brewing. He took a large bowl from the cupboard, and then surveyed the pantry. Pleased to find ingredients for making pancakes, he gathered the items and set them on the table. A small basket of eggs sat on the counter, and he cracked four of them into the mixing bowl. As he added flour, he heard a sound behind him and turned to see Nancy entering the kitchen.
“Oh, good gracious!” She clapped her palm over her chest and sagged against the door frame. “What are you doing in here?”
Grinning at her obvious surprise, he glanced at the mixing bowl, and then back at her. “I’m making breakfast.”
Her breath sailed out and she stared at the bowl as if not yet fully understanding what he was doing.
Her normally coiffed hair was wispy and askew, her loose braid pulled forward across her shoulder. Her housecoat hung awry, as if she had pulled it on quickly and hadn’t adjusted it properly before rushing down the hall. Dawson couldn’t wrench his gaze away from the magnificent woman standing in front of him. She had never looked more beautiful than she did now. So this is how she looked upon waking. He smiled at her, mesmerized, and in love.
“I… I intended to start the coffee and hurry back to my room before anyone got up.” She clutched her housecoat in front of her. “I apologize, Dawson. I’m being entirely inappropriate. Leave that, and I’ll finish breakfast as soon as I dress.” She turned to leave the kitchen.
Dawson reached out and caught her elbow. “The coffee is nearly finished brewing, and no one can top my pancakes, Nancy, so let me finish making them.” He turned her to face him. “Sit with me a minute before Adam and Rebecca get up.”
“It’s hardly proper for the two of us to be visiting in our nightclothes.”
He winked. “I know. That’s what makes it fun.”
She gasped and laughed at the same time, and he knew he’d succeeded in convincing her to stay.
“Come on. The coffee is ready.” He grabbed one of the cups he’d taken out of the cupboard. He filled the cup and pressed the steaming mug into her hands. “Just one quick cup of coffee before we’re surrounded by family,” he said.
She met his eyes. “Don’t you dare tell anyone about this.”
“It’ll be our secret, darling.”
Her lashes dipped, concealing her eyes, but Dawson saw the flush on her cheeks and the smile on her lips. Nancy conducted herself with grace and propriety in public, but he knew her secret—she had an adventurous spirit that liked to ride the wind and dance in the rain. That youthful, girlish side of her would remain to her last breath—and that is precisely what had made him fall in love with her.
She raised the cup to her nose and inhaled the robust aroma before taking her first sip. Afterward, she sighed as if she’d waited all night for this first taste of coffee. Dawson knew that intense craving well and eagerly anticipated his first swallow of coffee, too, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Nancy.
She cupped the porcelain mug in both hands and took another sip, then released a long sigh of contentment. “It’s been years since anyone has made my morning coffee,” she said, her voice so dreamy it melted him.
“I’ll make your coffee every morning,” he said quietly.
Instead of shuttering her feelings behind her dark lashes, she angled her head and studied him. “I’d like that.”
Hope grew in his chest like a wave that swells and builds as it heads ashore. “Is that a yes, then?”
Her lashes swooped down to conceal her eyes. “I simply meant that I would enjoy having coffee with you each morning.”
The wave of hope crashed and dissipated as it hit the rocky shore of reality. “Then you’re saying, no?”
She sighed and shook her head as if utterly frustrated with him. “It’s exactly what I said, Dawson. I’m enjoying this moment with you. Can we please put your proposal aside for now and simply enjoy our holiday together?”
Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and he knew he’d upset her with his insistence. “Of course. I just thought you’d have had enough time to decide by now.”
“You would think, but it seems the more I consider it the more confused I become.” She set her cup on the far end of the table and tightened the belt of her housecoat, accentuating her slim waist and womanly figure. “I need to dress before the kids get up.”
He longed to pull her into his arms and tell her he’d dreamt of her last night as he’d done so many times since meeting her. He’d dreamt of mornings like this and of afternoon walks and candlelight talks. There was so much he wanted to give her, so many places he wanted to take her, and he knew she would love the adventure. But she was like a magnificent horse loyal to her stable. Getting her to venture beyond her comfortable path wasn’t going to be easy. But Dawson wasn’t trying to drive her away from her comfortable home, or split her from her drove, or trap or capture her. He simply wanted to show her that she could stretch her legs and explore more of the world around her.
With a hard sigh, he brought his attention back to the moment and her comment. “I hadn’t meant to push or to make you uncomfortable, Nancy. I’d just like to know how you feel about… things. About me.”
“Oh, Dawson....” She closed the distance between them and slipped her delicate hands into his. “How can you not know how I feel about you?”
With his thumb, he felt the circular gold band of her wedding ring that she continued to wear even after he’d proposed. That’s why he didn’t know. “When we were in Crane Landing, I thought I knew your feelings, Nancy. But once you returned to Fredonia, it felt as if I’d lost part of you. I’m honestly not sure where your feelings lie.”
She cupped his cheek and looked into his eyes. “I consider you my dearest friend, Dawson. I care very deeply for you. That’s how I feel.”
But she didn’t say she loved him. Or that she wanted to marry him.
Nor did she say she didn’t love him.
“Dawson, I’m going to get dressed and come back in a few minutes to help you with breakfast.” She stepped away from him and their intimate discussion. At the doorway, she turned back, a soft smile on her face. “I must confess that I was shocked to find you in the kitchen making pancakes. I hadn’t thought about you cooking for yourself.”
“Did you think I maintained this manly figure by skipping meals?” Dawson asked, deciding to lighten their conversation. Pressuring her for an answer was creating distance between them. “I assure you, Nancy, I’m quite adept in the kitchen. When I began living alone, I found I really enjoyed cooking.”
“I guess there is still much to learn about you, Dawson.”
There was indeed. And one thing she would learn before his visit ended, was that she deserved to be loved and cherished by a man who would give her the world.
But she wasn’t ready to hear that yet, and so he said, “I believe I hear Adam and Rebecca stirring. I imagine you’d rather they didn’t catch us conversing in the kitchen in our nightclothes.” Her cheeks flushed and Dawson laughed.
“There is bacon in the icebox. I’ll make the eggs when I come back,” Nancy said, and then she ducked out of the kitchen.
Dawson had pancakes browning and bacon sizzling in a hot skillet when Adam and Rebecca entered the kitchen, sniffing the aroma coming from the frying pan. When they saw Dawson standing at the stove with a spatula in hand, they both stopped in surprise.
“Are you cooking breakfast?” Rebecca asked.
Dawson nodded. “As I do every morning.”
“Well, it smells delicious,” Adam said, pulling out a chair at the table for Rebecca. She hesitated and asked if she might help, but Dawson told her everything was set.
With a sigh, Rebecca sat at the table. “Gracious, I’m tired this morning. You’d have thought I didn’t sleep a wink last night.”
Adam poured coffee for himself and Rebecca and warmed Dawson’s coffee. “I believe you slept quite soundly, darling. I woke several times thinking I was at the sawmill, but it was just you snoring beside me.”
“I do not snore, Adam!” Rebecca laughed and gave him a good nudge in his side.
Dawson smiled at the loving banter between husband and wife. They shared a comfortable togetherness that he hadn’t experienced in his life, not until meeting Nancy. After years of living a solitary life, he’d thought that marriage wasn’t in the cards for him. But then he met Nancy, with her youthful spirit and slightly irreverent sense of humor, and his whole life changed. Perhaps Nancy just needed to be reminded what it felt like to be in love, to play and flirt and make every moment of the day special because you were sharing it with each other.
With resolve, Dawson turned back to the stove, vowing to show Nancy exactly what they stood to lose if she said no.
As he finished turning the last of the pancakes on the griddle, Nancy entered the kitchen with her hair properly pinned and her eyes sparkling. “Good morning, everyone. I hope you all slept well,” she said, taking an apron off a hook and tying it around the waist of a smartly tailored, chestnut brown dress.
Dawson grinned. She was coiffed and lightly perfumed and ready for Sunday service. His shirt was still untucked and he was in his slippers.
“We slept soundly, grandmother. But imagine our surprised to find Dawson making breakfast this morning? Did you oversleep?” Rebecca asked.
“I um… I suppose, I did,” Nancy said, casting a furtive glance at Dawson.
He grinned, knowing she didn’t want her grandchildren aware of their early morning meeting in their nightclothes. The urge to tease her a little was tempting, but he behaved himself and placed a heaping stack of pancakes on a small platter. He set it on the table beside a plate of crispy bacon, then helped Nancy dish the eggs onto four plates.
After seating Nancy, Dawson sat in the chair at her left at the head of the table. He turned and reached back to the sideboard to retrieve the pitcher of maple syrup he’d forgotten. “I think that’s everything. Let’s eat while it’s hot,” he said.
Adam eyed the towering stack of pancakes, and laughed. “You’ve made enough to feed the entire shipyard.”
“Well, I intend to eat half those cakes,” Dawson said, playfully defending his decision to make such a large batch.
“I’m hungry enough to eat the other half,” Rebecca added, pouring syrup over the two pancakes she’d placed on her plate.
Adam stabbed a forkful of bacon and put it on his plate, then followed with three brown cakes, topping them with a pond of syrup. He shoveled in a mouthful of pancakes, and his eyebrows lifted. “Mmm… I think these are the best pancakes I’ve eaten.”
“What?” Nancy playfully whacked his knuckles with her fork. “I thought I made the best cakes. And I taught you not to talk with your mouth full, didn’t I?”
Adam grimaced, and they all laughed at her play. “Sorry, Grandma.”
Her pretty brown eyes shifted toward Dawson. “I have to agree with Adam,” she said. “These are delicious.”
Dawson smiled and watched her dab a drop of syrup from her lip.
“I picked up a few useful skills living alone all these years,” he said. He grasped his cup and leaned back in his chair, watching everyone enjoying the breakfast he’d prepared. They shared easy conversation about their upcoming day. After living so many years alone, he enjoyed being part of a family. Adam and Rebecca weren’t just Nancy’s grandchildren, they were his friends and his family in Crane Landing. And Nancy… she was so much more than a friend. So much more.
The soft glow of lantern light fell across the snowy path through the orchard that Nancy walked with Dawson. After Sunday service, they had spent the day at Radford and Evelyn’s house. By the time supper was over, Nancy was tired and happy to be heading home. “Would I be a terrible mother and grandmother if I said I’m eager to sit in my quiet parlor beside a warm fire?” she asked.
Dawson grinned down at her. “Well, if it does make you a terrible person, I won’t tell anyone because I’ve been anticipating the same thing for the past hour. In fifty-six years of living, I don’t think I’ve listened to so many conversations happening simultaneously. And I think my pants leg is damp from Emma’s diaper.”
Nancy laughed and hugged Dawson’s arm to her side. “Wait until all my children and grandchildren gather in one place, Dawson. Your ears will ring for days.”
He laughed. “I loved every minute of this day, Nancy. I want you to know that. Just being with you, and getting to know the kids, is… it’s something I deeply appreciate.”
His sincerity touched her, and it made her decision that much harder.
She shivered from the cold and a decision she didn’t want to make. The clear sky overhead was a welcome respite after the blowing snow the previous day. But no clouds meant bitter cold, and she felt the chill in her bones deepen with each step she took. The crisp air made her throat burn, and she labored through the deep snow. As she picked her way along the path, she tried to step in the footsteps already left in the snow, noting that some of those prints were from Dawson—and not one of them was from Hal.
Dawson’s nearness made her feel less alone, but she felt a sudden upwelling of melancholy. Dawson’s strong and steady arm beneath her hand assured her that she could count on him. He was a man of his word, a man of wealth and great intellect, a man who would make her final days a grand adventure, if she let him.
But could she let him?
She’d spent much of Sunday service turning that question over in her mind. Dawson had sat beside her during the service, his leg pressed against hers on the crowded pew. Their shoulders touched and his arm brushed against hers each time he shifted on the wooden bench. He’d held he hymnal for them to share. The rich sound of his baritone fell nicely on her ears as his voice rang out strong during each hymn. She’d heard happiness in his voice as he sang, and she hoped she wouldn’t be the one to squelch that feeling, but she was no closer to an answer than she had been the day he proposed.
Having dinner at Radford’s house had helped divert her thoughts from constantly rehashing the question.
The lively meal, with all seven of Radford and Evelyn’s children, plus Adam, Dawson, and herself, had provided no opportunity for her thoughts to drift to Dawson’s proposal. But sitting beside him during a family supper did make her think back to dinners with Hal and their four high-spirited boys, who could barely contain their energy long enough to sit for a meal. Her grandchildren had been just as energetic and eager to get back to their play. Eight-year-old Tyler had shoved a few quick bites into his mouth, and then tried to escape from the table, only to be returned by Evelyn, again and again. Radford and Boyd had been exactly the same at that age. The memory made Nancy smile. While finishing her coffee and dessert after supper, little Emma had climbed onto her lap for a snuggle with her grandma. Nancy thought of her own boys at that age. Hal had been alive and healthy then. It seemed she’d just blinked her eyes and Hal was gone and her children were grown. In that moment of realization, Nancy had clutched her one-year-old granddaughter to her breast, knowing these times would be gone too soon and her grandchildren would be grown in a blink. And she would be even more alone.
Chances Are Page 4