Where There's Smoke (Holiday Hearts #1)

by Kristin Hardy

  She took the dishes from him and, with a nod, he left.

  “Just set that over here,” Lainie, Nick’s cousin, directed. Sleeves pushed up and apron on, she was ready to work.

  “Let me help,” Sloane said. If she didn’t wash dishes, she’d find herself facing the dreaded living-room conversation with the rest of the family. Better to pitch in.

  Lainie grinned. “You want to work, you’ll get no arguments here. You want to wash or dry?”

  “I like washing.”

  “Hmm. I do, too.” She considered. “Okay, rock, paper, scissors,” she said briskly, making a fist.

  Sloane considered. “All right. One, two, three.”

  They both held out scissors. “Again,” Lainie commanded, clenching her fingers together again.

  This one took a bit more thought. Sloane bounced her fist three times and poked out two fingers in scissors.

  And glanced over to see that Lainie had done the same thing. They locked eyes and burst into laughter. “Great minds,” Lainie said.

  “Two out of three?” Sloane suggested.

  Lainie shook her head. “Nope, we think too much alike. We’d probably wind up in another tie. You’re the guest. I’ll sacrifice myself and dry.”

  Sloane slipped her hands into the warm wash water. “So your father is Nick’s uncle?”

  “Yep, more Trasks. We grew up just the other side of the ridge, but my parents live in Burlington now.” She took the plate Sloane handed her and began to wipe it dry.

  “Where are you?”

  “Down in Salem, Mass.”

  Sloane set a stack of plates in the dishwater. “Oh, you’re the witch cousin.”

  Lainie rolled her eyes. “Let me guess, Nick’s been briefing you. I’m not actually a Wiccan, you know. I just run the museum.” She took another clean plate from where they’d begun to stack up by Sloane.

  “It sounds like a fun job.”

  “It has its perks. I got to meet Daniel Day-Lewis when they were filming The Crucible in town.” She sighed.

  “Nice?”

  “Beautiful. And nice. If there’s a reason I’m single, it’s because he ruined me for mortal men.”

  Sloane gave her a dubious look before submerging the caramel-encrusted sweet-potato dish. “I don’t know, do you have to have a reason at our age?”

  Lainie snorted. “When you come from my family and all your other sibs are married off? You bet.”

  Sloane scrubbed at the baked-on caramel. “Looks like you’re stuck, kiddo.”

  “Tell me about it.” She lapsed into silence for a few seconds, then cheered up. “So have you known Nick long?” she asked casually.

  Here it came, Sloane thought. “Not really. A month or so. I’m sort of working with him.”

  “You don’t look like a firefighter.”

  “I’m not.” She rinsed the sweet-potato dish and handed it to Lainie. “My company’s built some fire equipment. Nick’s testing it for us, seeing if it works.”

  “Seeing you, too, right? Is it serious?” Lainie’s eyes were bright with speculation.

  “Are you grilling me?”

  “Hell, yeah.” Lainie laughed. “I figure if everyone’s worried about you and Nick, the heat’s off me. Come on,” she begged, “just one thing I can tell my mom.”

  Sloane raised a brow. “He knows how to handle his hose?”

  Lainie just snickered.

  Nick and Jacob carried the plywood sheet toward the work shed behind the house, the same way they’d carried loads together as kids. It was harder now to time their steps so that they were in sync, though. Each of them was so solidly set in his ways, maybe, that there was no longer room for compromise.

  Around them gamboled Murphy, Jacob’s big black hound who looked like a cross between a black Lab and a small horse. Dried leaves crunched underfoot. “The groves look good,” Nick commented, looking out at the solemn silver ranks of trees.

  “Thanks,” Jacob said. “I’m trying to figure out whether to cull that stand over by the creek, plant some new stock. It’s still producing but it’s been falling off for three years running. We won’t be able to tap them for thirty years but we’ve got to plan for the future.”

  Nick shrugged as best he could. “You’re the expert.”

  “I guess it’s not your problem anymore, is it?” Jacob fell silent and kept walking.

  Nick felt the same stirring of irritation he always felt with Jacob. Only this time, he’d had enough. “Nobody made you stay here, Jacob. I thought you liked it. I thought it was what you wanted to do.”

  “It is.”

  “Then why do you always give me guff about leaving?”

  Jacob stopped before the door to the shed, holding the plywood with one hand and opening the door with the other. “I don’t.”

  “Yeah, you do. It’s getting old.” And it was time, long past time to have this out.

  “Yeah, well it’s getting old that you think you can just walk away and not have any responsibility to any of us.” He set the wood down and turned to face Nick then. “You’re still a part of this family.”

  “And you think I should come home and do my duty?”

  Jacob frowned. “Here? To live? No way.”

  “Oh, come on.” Nick rounded on him. “You hint at it every time we talk.”

  “I like working the property. It’s a big job and I’m not quite sure what I’m going to do when the sap run starts in the spring, but that’s my problem.”

  “When you talk about it, it becomes mine, too.” And it made him feel like he should come up with an answer.

  “For Chrissakes,” Jacob snapped, “can’t I ever talk with you about the stuff that’s bugging me? Do I have to pretend that everything’s perfect? Yeah, it’s hard work and yeah, I’m a little concerned about the spring, but I’ll figure out a way to make it work.” He stalked over to the grimy window that looked out at the groves. “It’s all of our property but guess who’s responsible for it succeeding? Five generations, Nick, five, and it all comes down to how I manage it today.” He swung back to face Nick. “Did you ever stop to think that maybe I just want you and Gabe to know what’s going on? Did it ever occur to you that sometimes I just want to talk about it?”

  “You never just want to talk about anything,” Nick said, with a try for flippancy.

  “And maybe you don’t want to listen,” Jacob retorted.

  There was something in his voice, Nick realized, something he’d never heard before. A tiny, miniscule hint of self-doubt. Self-doubt? Jacob, the big brother? Jacob, the one who’d always known how it was supposed to be and rammed it down Nick’s throat, whether he wanted it or not? Jacob, stubborn, opinionated Jacob, suddenly turning human?

  Or Nick, maybe, finally opening his eyes.

  And now he didn’t know what to say. “Look, we never meant to throw everything on you. If you want to unload the property, we can—”

  “Sell the farm? What are you, nuts? There’s no way. You want out, fine, I’ll buy you out, but this is what I do. It’s what I am. I don’t want out of the farm, but I’d like to be able to talk about it without you getting pissed or thinking that it’s a jab at you. I’m not a big talker, you know that. So, God, cut me some slack when I do,” he finished in disgust.

  A second or two went by. “I think that’s the longest speech I’ve ever heard you give,” Nick said finally.

  “Try me again sometime, if you can do it without getting pissed and stomping off. Nick, you’re the only one who thinks you should come home, okay? You’ve got your life. I’m happy here alone. You moved back, we’d kill each other inside of a week.”

  He had a point, Nick had to agree. Still… “Look, you’re right about it being a big job and I don’t want Ma out there killing herself to pitch in. I could take a week or two of vacation during the sap run if it would help.”

  “If I need a hand, I’ll tell you. But only if you don’t hassle me about it.”

  “I won’t hassle
you about it.” Nick held out his hand. Jacob stared at it a moment and then reached out and shook it. “Okay,” Nick said briskly. “Now can we put this damned wood away? I’m freezing my tail off here.”

  A stealthy shake to Sloane’s shoulder woke her the next morning before it was light. She opened her eyes to see Nick. He gave her a quick kiss. “Get up,” he said softly. “We got new snow overnight. Come out and see.”

  They crept out of the house, their breath forming white plumes in the chill air. Above the ridge to the east, the sky was rosy with the light of the still-hidden sun. Nick caught at Sloane’s hand. The path led around Jacob’s house and to the trail that led into the maple groves.

  It was magical, she thought as they walked out into the frozen landscape. Soft, white and absolutely smooth, snow stretched out into the trees untouched in all directions. It was as though they were the first people to walk there, ever. The maples stood at regular intervals, silent sentinels in the pristine whiteness. The air was still and quiet.

  “Wait a minute,” Nick said, “Let me see something a minute.” He stopped and looked around, then gave a brisk nod. “Yep, it definitely looks better with you in it.”

  She laughed and they resumed walking. “So how’s it been, being back? Everything okay?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, things are good. I got some things hashed out with Jacob.” He scrubbed his free hand through his hair. “Things haven’t been that great with us lately.”

  “I noticed when we got here.” Sloane glanced at him. “Was that why you wanted me to come along? To dilute things?”

  He considered. “I don’t know, maybe at first. Mostly, I wanted you to meet my family because I thought you’d like them. I was pretty sure they’d like you. And they do.”

  “How do you know that? Have you guys been sneaking off and comparing notes?”

  A corner of his mouth quirked. “Lainie and Gabe wanted to know why you’re having anything to do with me. That’s usually a good sign.”

  She grinned. “I’m glad I could measure—”

  “Shh.” He stopped and touched her shoulder. “Deer,” he said, turning her a little.

  It took her a moment but then she saw their soft reddish coats in the distance. “Oh,” she breathed. Stiff-legged and graceful, they walked along in a line, threading their way through the maples in the hush of dawn. The sun just peeked over the nearby ridge then, sending a ray of warm gold light through the grove, gilding the deer from afar. Sloane caught her breath. “It’s so perfect,” she murmured and turned to Nick.

  “You’re perfect.” And in the first glow of the rising sun, he kissed her gently.

  Morning slipped into afternoon in a whirl of activity: snowshoeing, exploring the sugar house, blind-tasting maple syrup. Getting on the road took longer than they expected. By the time they reached Nick’s house north of Boston, it was pushing eleven.

  Yawning, Sloane stood on the sidewalk near her car. “This is where I wish I could just snap my fingers and go instantly across town to my bed.”

  “I can offer you the next best thing. Stay here tonight.”

  She gave him an amused look. “And get up at four to have time to get to my house before start of shift at the firehouse?”

  “Not necessarily. You’ve got clothes with you, right? We can throw your clothes in the wash. Tomorrow, we just get up and drive straight to the firehouse.”

  It was tempting, especially after the numbing drive. She was more tired than she wanted to admit. Spending another forty-five minutes behind the wheel was the last thing she wanted.

  “What do you say?” Nick watched her closely.

  Sloane found herself yawning again.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” Nick said and picked up her overnight bag.

  He was all efficiency, getting the bags inside, stopping in the laundry room, going upstairs. At the threshold of his bedroom, though, he stopped her with his hands on her shoulders.

  “What?” Sloane asked.

  Appreciation bloomed in his eyes. “This’ll be the first time we’ve stayed together. I’m just savoring it.”

  It made her flush. “Yes, well, it’s just the best way to get some sleep, that’s all,” she muttered.

  Nick ran his hands up her spine, fusing the two of them together. “So tell me how I can miss you when I spent the last two days with you,” he murmured and held her, just held her, for long moments.

  “It’s not the amount of time, it’s the quality,” Sloane returned.

  “And it is quality,” he murmured, tipping her face toward him with his fingertips. Softly, he kissed her so that pleasure dripped through her like warm honey. Without breaking apart, they moved into the bedroom and sank down on the bed.

  His touch made her shiver. The heat of his body made her moan. When she would have quickened, Nick put his hand over hers. “Slow down,” he whispered, kissing her eyelids closed. “We’ve got all night.”

  The gentle smoothing of a hand over bare skin. The soft exhalation of breath. She’d thought that passion meant flash and fire. It was a revelation that it could also be slow and sweet.

  They undressed, but afterward she couldn’t recall quite how. It wasn’t the usual fever of tearing at each other’s clothing but leisurely, deliberate, every inch of skin revealed all the more arousing. Naked, they came together in comfort and in quiet.

  They touched, they tasted, they took each other up. Nerve endings that usually crackled with the flash and spark of a live fuse now radiated a deep, powerful heat. When he covered her body with his, she caught her breath softly. When he slid inside her, it was as though the barrier of skin no longer existed. Instead, they melded. The measured strokes, the bunch and flow of muscle sent desire flowing through them, one to the other. She felt suspended in pleasure, weightless and liquid.

  And when they slipped over the edge they did it together, floating down softly and so, to sleep.

  Sloane woke at first light nestled against Nick, his arm wrapped around her from behind. Her initial haze of bemusement morphed to consternation and then steadily increasing dismay. Resisting the urge to groan out loud, she slipped from under his arm and escaped to the bathroom.

  She sat on the edge of the tub, her head in her hands. Trouble, big-time trouble. She’d made the rules. She’d set down the conditions. Lighthearted fun, no commitments. Nothing serious.

  Yeah, right.

  It would be easy to blame the night before on exhaustion but she knew it wasn’t so. Just as she knew they hadn’t had sex—they’d made love.

  Panic lodged in her throat. How much of an idiot could a person be? The whole time she’d been going blithely along, telling herself she had it all under control, she’d been getting in deeper and deeper. She hadn’t paid attention. She hadn’t kept herself protected and now her heart was very much at risk. That was what happened when you let people into your life, she reminded herself, thinking of Nick, thinking of his family. You loved people and you lost them.

  Not that she’d let herself fall in love with Nick, of course. She hadn’t let it go that far. It was only a matter of time, though, if she kept on seeing him. Which was why she had to get out now.

  Holding her breath, Sloane opened the door and slipped back out into the bedroom. Nick lay on his side, still out to the world, the depth of his sleep making up for the firehouse nights that consisted of little more than a series of catnaps. For a moment, she stood helplessly and just watched him. Then she shook herself.

  Escape first and deal with the fallout later. The fact that it was hard to walk away was exactly why she had to. He might be disappointed but he’d understand. It would be okay.

  She bent to gather her clothes and tried desperately to believe it.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Nick was staring at the annual employee-evaluation paperwork in front of him, searching for the right mix of positive reinforcement and constructive criticism when a shout came from the direction of the kitchen. Impatiently he rose and strode down
to the kitchen, only to stumble into a circle of noise and activity. It centered about the kitchen table, where O’Hanlan and Knapp arm wrestled while Beaulieu took the bets from the rest of the cheering crew.

  “Why don’t you give it up, Tommy, me lad?” O’Hanlan said between clenched teeth as Knapp pushed his knuckles back toward the table. “I’m just playin’ with you.”

  “Looks more like work to me,” Knapp replied, huffing a bit as he pushed O’Hanlan’s hand down. “You’re getting soft running the ladder, O’Hanlan.”

  “I’ll show you soft,” O’Hanlan gritted and thumped Knapp’s hand over and down. He rose to cheers and slaps on the back. “There now, have I convinced you all or do I need to take on someone else?”

  “You want to do anything else to impress me while I’m writing up your evals?” Nick snapped.

  They gaped at him in sudden and surprised silence.

  “If anyone wants me, I’ll be in my office.”

  “Someone’s in a bad mood,” O’Hanlan observed as Nick walked out.

  Someone was, Nick thought. He’d been out of sorts all day, from the moment after he’d opened his eyes.

  And awakened in an empty bed.

  Things happened, he knew that. Plans changed. It was just possible that Sloane had remembered something important she had to be home for. He had a harder time understanding why she’d sneaked out on him. That she hadn’t wanted to wake him was the reason she’d given in her note. That she hadn’t wanted to face questions was more likely.

  She was hiding out, he was certain of it. Somehow, some way she’d gotten spooked and now she was backing out. And it surprised him just how much that stung. It didn’t matter that they’d spent two solid days together at the farm, he missed her. It was hard to admit how disappointed he’d been to wake alone.

  Only if they didn’t get serious, she’d said, only then would she get involved with him. Only if they didn’t let themselves care for each other. And that was bull, he thought in sudden fury. It was what made relationships work, the caring. Otherwise, it was just friction and hormones.