by Anne Chase
He opened his eyes then, and she found herself staring into their dark brown depths.
"Good stuff," he said.
He was talking about the cocoa, of course. And it was good. It was very good. It was —
"Delicious," she said. "So delicious."
"Why don't we sit down?" He gestured toward the living room.
"Sounds great," she said, exhaling with relief. He led the way and she followed to the leather sofa near the fire. He settled on one end, and she was about to join him when her attention was drawn to a set of photographs on the fireplace mantel.
"May I?" she asked, gesturing toward the photos.
"Please."
She stepped closer. The photos were clearly of Nick's family. Nick with his mother and father and —
"Your brother and sister?" she said, pointing to a photo.
He nodded. "I'm the youngest of three."
"Do they live here in Heartsprings Valley?"
He shook his head. "No, I'm a transplant here. Like you."
Her gaze landed then on a photo of Nick with his arms around a young woman. She and Nick were both laughing, her brown hair flowing over her shoulders.
"This must be your wife," she said.
"That's right," he said quietly.
"Abby told me she died in a car crash two years ago. I'm so sorry for your loss."
"I miss her every day," he said. "It's been two years, but sometimes it feels like it was yesterday."
She nodded, then joined him on the couch and turned to face him. The mug in her hands offered comfort, its warmth a reassuring presence. "I lost my husband three years ago."
His brown eyes widened with compassion. "I'm so sorry to hear that. Can I ask what happened?"
She took a deep breath. "He was in Afghanistan, on his second deployment there. A landmine. I'm told he died instantly."
He shook his head. "I'm so sorry for your loss."
Her lower lip quivered. "One minute you have your whole life ahead of you, and the next...."
He swallowed. "Suddenly, everything is gone."
They sat in silence for a long moment and allowed the quiet to linger. In front of them, the fire burned steadily, casting flickering lights. For the first time since setting foot in the cabin, she felt at peace. The awkwardness she'd felt, the self-consciousness, the fear and anxiety — all of that had vanished. She and Nick had found common ground, a bridge, a connection. Both of them, it turned out, were lost souls, adrift, unsure how to find their way forward from what had been ripped from them.
"Was your wife the reason you moved to Heartsprings Valley?" she said.
He nodded. "Her idea. She'd spent a summer here as a kid, and the town had captured her imagination and never really let go. I wasn't sure, but I talked with the vet here — Gail's previous vet partner — and he was getting ready to retire and he encouraged us to give it a try and introduced me and Gail. He told me I'd never get bored up here, and boy, was he right about that."
She smiled. "I've only been here three days, but I have to agree. This town is full of surprises."
"It's a whirlwind sometimes. So much happening, usually all at once."
"Abby said you take care of all kinds of animals, even iguanas?"
"Sure," he said with a smile. "They're actually kind of cute, in baby-Godzilla kind of way."
"I saw a picture of Pinkie the pig on the wall in the waiting room. He looks adorable."
He chuckled. "A very determined fellow. Smart as all get-out, too."
"Did Dr. Gail say something about a sick llama? Am I remembering that right?"
"You mean Daisy. Angus has a farm about a mile outside of town and raises llamas. One of his gals — her name's Daisy — is having a difficult pregnancy, so we're keeping an eye on her."
He shifted position on the sofa and took another sip of his cocoa. "So what brought you here?"
She took a deep breath and exhaled. "Well, the easy answer is that I applied for the town librarian job and got hired, so here I am. But there's more to it than that. After my husband died, I survived by going on auto-pilot. I went through the motions, but I felt like I was numb all over, like I no longer cared, like I couldn't risk caring. I threw myself into my job — I worked in a library — and buried myself in my work."
He nodded at that, clearly relating, encouraging her to continue.
"Looking back, I think I needed to be busy and numbed-out," she said. "For me, that's how I coped. If I hadn't had my job, I don't know what I would have done."
"Same with me. The busier I am, the less time I have to be reminded of...."
"Exactly. But earlier this year, I felt a shift inside. I felt ... I don't know how to describe this, but I felt stale. Like I was numbed out not because I still needed to be, but because I was in the habit of being that way."
He blinked, surprised. "I've never thought of it that way, but I see what you mean."
"On the same day I realized that, I saw the job listing for the librarian position in Heartsprings Valley. On an impulse, I updated my resume and applied. Never in a million years did I think I'd be considered seriously — I probably wouldn't have applied if I had! — but Hettie Mae reached out and one thing led to another and here I am."
"Any regrets?"
"No," she said with a decisive shake of her head. "I've met such good people here. Hettie Mae, of course, but also Abby from the chocolate shop and Dr. Gail and Bert Winters and now you." She gestured toward Bowzer, who was dozing quietly on the rug in front of the fire. "And of course this guy here."
She paused as she realized something. "Although, I do have one regret about moving here when I did."
"What's that?"
"Christmas is such a special time for my family — my mom and dad, my two younger brothers and their families — and being here means I'm not celebrating with them."
"Is there a reason you moved here before Christmas?"
"I could have waited until after the holiday," she said. "Part of me wishes I'd done that. The thought of being with my mom right now in her kitchen, helping her making her famous apple pie...." She sighed wistfully, imagining her mom's laughter and the wonderful aromas of pie dough and cinnamon and freshly sliced apples.
"But I couldn't," she said, sitting up straighter. "Somehow, I knew that my fresh start in Heartsprings Valley had to begin right away. It's like I was ... pulled here."
He gazed upon her intently, focused on her every word. "I think I can guess why," he said.
"Really? Because I'm still not sure about that myself."
17
Nick took a deep breath. "Well.... Going out on a limb here.... I think you had to get here before Christmas because you needed to break free from the Christmas you know and love at home, because those traditions you know and love so much intensify the pain you feel about the loss of your husband. Plain and simple, you needed a fresh start, including a fresh start for Christmas."
It was like he had seen into her soul — like he understood instantly how torn up she was by her decision, how much she regretted it but at the same time needed it.
And she realized something about him in that instant — something that had registered in her subconscious as soon as she'd set foot in his cabin, but which hadn't pushed its way to the front of her mind until this moment. Here they were, in a beautiful rustic cabin on a snowy mountain on Christmas Eve, but not a single holiday decoration was in sight. No Christmas tree, no wreaths, no holly, no ornaments, no Christmas cards on the mantel — nothing.
"You have the same need, don't you?" she said. "That's why you've banished Christmas."
He blinked then, like he was holding back a surge of emotion. "I used to love Christmas," he said, "but it became too painful, so I quit it."
"Christmas never quits on you. It's always there, ready to welcome you back."
He swallowed, then took a deep breath. "I don't know if I'm ready for that."
She had an insight then about something else. "I got
a call this morning from Dr. Gail, inviting me to come by the clinic tomorrow afternoon for a Christmas Day gathering. She organized that gathering for you, didn't she?"
He sighed. "She's a good friend."
"Are you going?"
"I don't know. She did the same thing last year, but I begged off."
"Well," she said, "like you said, we all have our own way of coping. You'll know when it's time to let Christmas back into your life."
He gave her a slow smile. "You're not going to get on my case about it?"
"Nope," she said firmly. "A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do." Then she added, "Or woman, as the case may be."
His eyebrows furrowed. "Sounds like a certain woman had to do what she had to do? Is there a story there?"
She sighed. "I lied to my mom. I told her my new job started the week before Christmas. I feel terrible about that."
"Well, don't beat yourself up too much. Someday soon, you'll fess up and she'll be mad at you, but eventually she'll understand."
"How can you know that?"
"Because anyone who makes apple pie that's good enough to be famous has to be a generous, forgiving person. Everyone knows the key ingredient to great apple pie is love."
She smiled at that. "Her apple pie is amazing."
"She sounds like an amazing mom."
"She is." With a start, she remembered that she and her mom hadn't talked since that morning. "Would it be okay if I gave her a call?"
"Sure," he said.
She got up from the couch and he followed.
"Would you like more cocoa?" he said.
"Thank you. That would be lovely." She finished off the last swallow and handed him her mug. With a smile, he gestured for her lead the way, so she walked across the living room and through the kitchen into the mudroom, where she reached into her coat pocket and pulled out her phone. She turned it on and looked at it and frowned.
"My phone isn't picking up a signal," she said.
From the kitchen, Nick said, "Service out here is spotty at best. And the storm isn't helping. I have a landline. You're welcome to use it."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course. The phone's next to the couch in the living room."
"Thank you." She put her phone back in her coat pocket, then returned to the living room, picked up the phone, and punched in the number she knew by heart.
On the second ring, the phone picked up and she heard her mom say, "Hello?"
"Hi, Mom, it's me."
"Becca? You're calling from a new number. Is this the number for your new house?"
"No, Mom, I'm calling from a ... friend's house." The thought came then: Were she and Nick friends? Did they know each other well enough to call each other that?
"A friend? Who's that?" her mom asked.
"His name is Nick. Nick Shepherd. He's Bowzer's veterinarian."
"Well, that's nice. Is he having a Christmas Eve gathering? Why are you using his phone and not yours?"
"He lives outside of town, so cell service is spotty, especially with the storm."
"The storm? What storm?"
"A snowstorm. It's called a nor'easter."
"Oh, Becca, that doesn't sound good." She heard her mother say to someone: "It's Becca. There's a snowstorm there! A nor'easter."
"Mom, I'm fine. Bowzer and I are here at Dr. Nick's cabin."
"Well, how did you get there in the storm?"
Oh, boy. "Bowzer and I were on a hike when the storm hit."
"You were outside when the nor'easter hit?" her mother said, her voice rising in anxiety.
"Mom, we're fine."
"What were you doing outside on a hike? It's cold up there. You could get frostbite."
"I promise, Mom, I'm fine and Bowzer's fine. Dr. Nick has been a wonderful host."
"I want to speak with him."
"What? No, Mom."
"Yes. Right now, young lady."
Becca bit her lip. She could argue, but what good would that do? She knew how determined her mom could be. And she knew that Nick, mere feet away in the kitchen, could hear her every word.
She sighed. "Okay, just a minute."
Holding her hand over the phone's receiver, she said, "Guess what? My mom wants to talk to you."
Nick turned from the stove, surprised. "Me?"
"She wants to make sure the storm didn't turn me into a popsicle."
He smiled and held up the stirring spoon. "We'll switch. You stir, I'll talk."
She put the phone down, stepped into the kitchen, and took the spoon from him. The lovely aroma of cocoa and milk and spices wafted up from the saucepan.
Nick walked into the living room and picked up the phone.
"Hi, this is Nick," he said, then listened.
After a moment he said, "Yes, ma'am. She and Bowzer are both fine."
He listened some more, then said, "No, it's not a problem at all, ma'am." Following that, he listened and then said, "Yes, ma'am" three more times. Each time he spoke, Becca felt her anxiety rise. What was her mother saying?
Finally, with a smile on his face, Nick gestured to Becca to come to the phone. "And very nice talking with you, ma'am," he said. Becca rushed into the living room and took the phone from an amused Nick, who went back to the kitchen for more cocoa-stirring duty.
Becca took a breath to calm herself, then brought the phone to her mouth. "I'm back, Mom. Did you and Nick have a nice chat?"
"He seems like a very nice man," her mom said.
"He is."
"It was very kind of him to offer you shelter from the storm."
"Very kind."
"Are you okay up there? You know I worry about you."
"I'm fine, Mom. I promise."
She heard her mother sigh, and knew from that sigh that her mom was starting to calm down.
"I wish you could be here," her mom said.
"I know. Me, too."
"Hold on, dear. Your father just Googled him."
"He did what?"
"Oh, my," her mom said, clearly distracted by what her father had found on the computer. "He's very handsome. Is he single?"
"Mother!"
"Now, don't jump all over me. You know I want what's best for you."
Becca gritted her teeth. "We can talk about this later."
"Okay, I can take a hint. You call me when you can, okay?"
"I'll call you tomorrow morning."
"Merry Christmas, dear. Love you!"
"Merry Christmas, mom! Love you too!"
18
Becca placed the receiver back in the cradle and turned toward Nick, who looked amused.
"Sorry about that," she said. "When my mom gets protective, she gets very protective."
"She sounds like a wonderful mom," Nick said.
"She's the best," Becca said as she joined him in the kitchen. She watched him turn the burner off, pick up the saucepan, and carefully pour cocoa into their mugs.
Unable to stop herself, she asked, "What did she say to you?"
"She asked if you were okay after being out in the storm. She asked if it was okay for you to stay here during the storm. And then she basically asked more variations of the same two questions."
"I'm sorry you had to do that," she said.
"No problem," he said with a grin. "Your mom's worried about you, that's all."
They worked together wordlessly to get their second round of cocoa ready. The tentativeness from earlier was gone, replaced by an instinctive sense of what they expected from each other. As the whipped cream got dolloped and the nutmeg got sprinkled, Becca felt like she was in a flow of movement and purpose that seemed designed for the two of them. When Nick handed over her mug, she sensed that maybe, must maybe, he was feeling the same thing.
Silently, they made their way to the couch. Becca breathed in the wonderful aroma of the cocoa and licked the whipped cream on the top. A dash of nutmeg tingled on her tongue.
Bowzer was still dozing in front of the fire, his breathing reg
ular and relaxed.
Nick cleared his throat. "I try not to get overly attached to the animals in my care, but with Bowzer, I couldn't help myself. He's a very special dog."
"I sensed that from the instant I saw him," she said.
At that moment, the queen of the cabin chose to grace them with an appearance, making her way down the hallway into the living room. She surveyed Nick and Becca on the couch with silent approval, then regarded Bowzer silently, as if making up her mind about something.
"Uh-oh," Becca said with a smile.
Slowly, Divina approached the sleeping dog, pausing several times to sniff cautiously before stepping closer.
"What do think she's going to do?" Becca whispered.
"I have no idea," Nick whispered back.
Divina stopped in front of Bowzer's face. Was she going to whack him on the nose again? Becca bit her lip, restraining an urge to warn her dog of the impending danger.
But no. Divina stretched her back, then moved closer to the oblivious canine. For several long seconds, she contemplated his sleeping form. Finally, as if settling on an important decision, she did something that made both Becca and Nick gasp:
She lay down next to Bowzer and snuggled into his chest!
"Well, I'll be," Nick said, his eyes wide and disbelieving.
"Oh. My. Gosh," Becca whispered.
Awakened by Divina's divine presence, Bowzer looked up and discovered the queen of the cabin nestled next to him. He blinked but remained perfectly still except for his tail, which thumped happily. Divina glanced up at Bowzer's face, then settled closer to her new friend and promptly went to sleep.
Bowzer looked up at Nick and Becca, surprise and happiness radiating from him, then turned his gaze toward the sleeping queen of the cabin. Settling his head down, he followed Divina into contented slumber.
Nick chuckled softly, then turned toward Becca. "We'll have to make sure these two new friends spend lots of time together."
"Of course," Becca said, then blinked when she realized what that meant. It meant that she and Nick would also have to spend time together. Which meant — what? From the way her heart suddenly thumped in her chest, the answer to that question had, without warning, become extremely important. She felt her breathing constrict as she realized that her interest in spending time with Nick could mean only one thing. It meant that —