Christmas Comes to Dickens

by Nancy Fraser

  John opted to play it cool. “Don’t know. Depends how long our dinner lasts.”

  “You should try Mom’s pie, it’s really good. It was my dad’s favorite.”

  Heather opened the door like an angry jailer about to throw away the key. “Hailey, go upstairs and get your things. And don’t let Mr. Tinsel follow you back down.”

  The girl sprinted up the staircase without another word, her boots pounding the steps, accentuating the tension swirling around them.

  “We need to talk,” Heather told him.

  “Yes, we do.”

  TWENTY MINUTES LATER, they were waiting in a packed lobby for their reservation at Marley’s Olde English Pub. Several patrons had already said hello to Heather and given John the stink eye.

  John’s jaw tightened to the point of actual pain. He glanced down at Heather when she jostled against him as a large party shuffled through. “So, you made me a pie?” he said out of the blue.

  A sympathetic smile eased the anxious lines on her face. “I did. But I don’t want you to get the wrong idea because of what Hailey said. My husband liked my cheesecake recipe too, but that’s not what’s important.” She took a deep breath and released it slowly. “I wasn’t thinking about David when I decided to bake today. I was thinking only of you. I wanted to do something nice for you. Something special for our first real date.”

  His frozen heart thawed a few degrees with the sincerity of her words and the concern for him in her beautiful hazel eyes. “I don’t give a damn if you have money, or you don’t. If you’ve been married, or you’ve never dated anyone in your life,” he swore. “Okay...that would be weird. I mean...look at you. But that woman acted like I targeted you for insurance money.”

  Heather smirked. “Wow. Imagine if she knew how you murdered my coffee?”

  John stared for a second and then shook his head. He reluctantly smiled. “Yeah, and I forced your kid to feed my smelly sheep.”

  They laughed together, so hard others began to stare.

  Heather turned serious again. “Do you have any idea how hard this is for me, balancing my past with the hope of a future? Honoring that which was, while longing to see where this could go between us? I told you, I’m a worrier. I worry about Hailey; I worry about you. I never want you to live with the ghosts of my past.”

  “Do you worry about what people in this small-minded town think and say?” he grumbled. “The resident widow, dating the wanderer that just rolled back into town? What if he doesn’t stay?”

  Heather pressed against him, and she slid her arms around his waist, despite anyone who might see. Her hands slipped into his jean pockets beneath his long coat, and she squeezed.

  John’s eyes widened at the intimacy of her touch.

  “But what if he does stay?” she asked in a low tone meant only for his ears. “What if the drifter were to decide to remain in Dickens to get to know the resident widow better? Much better, in fact? What if they both said, ‘screw it’ to what anyone else thinks, and they just let this night happen between them?”

  “Is that what you want?”

  “Yes,” she said in a sure voice. “More than anything.”

  John closed his eyes, and he touched his forehead to hers. “I’m going out on a limb here, but I have to say it. I want to take you home, Heather. To be alone with you. I can’t stand being this close and not touching you. I feel...I want...” He swallowed hard.

  “I know,” she whispered. “Let’s get out of here.”

  He tipped his head to one side and paused.

  “That’s an order, soldier,” she said, squaring her stubborn jaw.

  They hurried from the crowded restaurant together—hand in hand and laughing—sprinting down a busy, snowy Main Street the short distance to the entrance of her building.

  Heather’s hands trembled as she attempted to unlock the door.

  “Let me,” John said, his hands steady as he fit the key into the lock.

  Before he could turn the knob, Heather grabbed his scarf and pulled him down for a long passionate kiss. John left the keys dangling in the lock, as his arms gripped her and held tight. He hauled her straight off the ground and pressed her back to the door as their kiss deepened.

  “We’re making another public display of affection,” he teased when they came up for air.

  She grinned. “Then I guess we’d better get off the street before these coats come off. Courtney will call the cops.”

  With that, he set her down and whipped open the door. They hurried up the staircase, and he opened the door leading to her kitchen.

  Heather shrugged out of her winter coat and tossed it to a chair. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not interested in food anymore.”

  John groaned and did the same thing with his coat. He took hold of Heather, and in one swift motion, swept her up into his arms, and carried her into the living room. Mr. Tinsel meowed and wound his way around his legs when he set Heather down on the couch. “Not now, buddy. Go do cat things somewhere else.”

  “He’s relentless. I’m going to put him down in Hailey’s bedroom.”

  “Okay, but hurry.”

  Heather gave him a sexy grin. “Why don’t you open the bottle of champagne I bought to go with the pie.”

  “Champagne. Roger that,” he said as they went their separate ways.

  HEATHER SET THE NOISY cat on the bed and gave him a few treats from the canister on Hailey’s nightstand. She turned to leave but caught site of herself in the vanity mirror. Tussled hair, lips red from kissing. She touched them in disbelief.

  Over five years since I’ve been intimate with a man.

  A powerful case of nerves rattled her.

  John was physically nothing like David, yet she was wildly attracted to him. Could they really make this thing work? Her heart admitted she longed to try, despite all the roadblocks to their evening thus far.

  True, they weren’t carefree young people anymore. Relationships, in their mid-thirties age-range meant extra work. There was water under every bridge and more baggage than at Logan Airport. Success required patience and understanding, and—

  She stopped, knowing John proved himself patient and understanding, more so than her. Somehow, she knew she was in good hands tonight with her gentle giant of a man.

  Heather smoothed her hair and clothes, attempting to look calm as she made her way back to the living room. Yet inside, her butterflies were having a dance party.

  John was waiting on the couch, holding two glasses. He fidgeted, looking uncharacteristically anxious. “I poured. I remembered where you kept the glasses. And I turned on the tree. Hope you don’t mind.”

  She sat beside him and accepted the glass he offered. “Of course, I don’t mind. I love this tree. It brought us together. The other night I just sat here, alone in the dark, marveling at its beauty.” She reached over and snapped off the sidelamp. Colored lights bathed the room in a romantic glow.

  “You don’t need to sit here in the dark alone tonight,” he pointed out the obvious. “I’m glad you asked me back.” He shook his dark head and chuckled. “I thought this night was done. No survivors after storm Courtney blew through.”

  They sipped their champagne, both staring straight forward at the tree.

  “John,” Heather began, “I’m super nervous right now.”

  He reached out and tenderly cupped her cheek. “Me too.”

  “Who’s in charge of this mission?” she asked before taking another swig of champagne.

  John took the glass from her and set it aside. He kissed her palm and then nipped her knuckle. She gasped, and he murmured, “Happy to serve, ma’am.”

  SOFT MORNING LIGHT filtered in through Heather’s window shades, and she sighed, feeling blissful, warm, and content. Oh so content. She’d had the most amazing night, making love multiple times with John. She recalled some of their intimate moments. His large hands, cupping her bare breasts. His mouth on her most sensitive skin.

  Her body re
sponded instantly to the sensual memories. Heat, flooding places that were sore but in all the most delightful ways.

  A rooster crowed, and John stirred beside her, grumbling, “Who the hell keeps chickens in downtown Dickens?”

  Heather sniggered and snuggled closer to him. A heavy arm wound around her waist. Her fingertips traced the intricate designs on his skin. Totally over any aversion to his tattoos, she now considered them undeniably sexy on John’s muscular body.

  She closed her eyes, remembering the feel of his weight settling over her. He was agile and beyond strong. Yet oh so gentle when he wanted to be.

  They’d even eaten her pie in bed with the last of the champagne. Plus, the left-over whipped cream.

  A shiver of delight raced through her at the memory of what they’d done with that sweet delight.

  John tipped her chin, his gaze locking with hers. “You are gorgeous in the morning.”

  “Yeah, right?” she scoffed and attempted to smooth her snarled hair.

  “I mean it. I’ve never been so happy to wake up and see someone.” He rolled over and pressed her down into the soft bedcoverings, all tangled and askew.

  Heather moaned and squirmed beneath him, her fingernails digging into his shoulders.

  The rooster crowed again, and his dark head shot up. “What time is it?”

  “I don’ know,” she slurred, feeling love drunk from his touch.

  He rolled off her, rising to stand nude, like a glorious Greek god. He checked his phone. “Damn, it’s almost six. We slept in. I’ve gotta get to work.”

  Heather struggled to a sitting position, and she winced.

  A wicked grin flashed across his face. “Sore?”

  “You know I am. We barely slept. And since when is six ‘sleeping in?’”

  “I live on a farm, remember? Besides, who needs sleep after last night?” He dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head before searching the room for his clothes. “Remind me of that later when I’m cutting and lugging trees until three.”

  “I’m going to miss you,” she admitted, surprised by how true the statement was.

  John stopped what he was doing to just look at her. “Come and see me later. We could do Sunday dinner. I know Pops wouldn’t mind. He told me how much he enjoys having you and Hailey visit.”

  “I’m so glad. Glad for this. Glad for you, reconciling with your father.”

  “Me too,” he murmured, his features softening, his grey eyes warming as they looked only at her.

  “Go,” she waved him away. “I’ll call you later when Hailey gets home.”

  “You’d better,” he warned with a heart-stopping smile. “You’ve got my hopes up that I’ll get to see you again today.”

  Chapter 8

  HAILEY DIDN’T RETURN until noon. In the meantime, Heather worked in the bookstore, using breaks between customers to write her book.

  Her fingers flew across the laptop’s keyboard, pouring out all the emotions she couldn’t quite wrap her brain around otherwise. She wasn’t ready to admit it yet, but she was in serious danger of falling head-over-heels in love with John Gridley.

  Oh, who am I kidding? It was love at first sight.

  After unpacking, Hailey shuffled into the store, looking like a zombie kid. She yawned as she deposited her shadow, Mr. Tinsel, into an overstuffed chair by the warm fireplace. He settled in and began bathing himself, like the spoiled housecat he’d become.

  “Would you like to go to the farm this afternoon? John invited us,” Heather said with a ready smile.

  “Really?” Hailey brightened instantly. Then her smile drooped, and she chewed her bottom lip. “I don’t know.”

  “What’s this? My daughter doesn’t want to feed a smelly old sheep? I don’t know what to say about this,” Heather teased.

  “Yeah...well...some people have lots to say,” the girl griped with a frown.

  “Like whom?”

  “Like the moms, sitting in the kitchen last night, drinking wine.”

  Heather’s stomach clenched. “Oh?”

  “I was headed to the bathroom when I heard them talking about you and John. Someone called him ‘hot,’ and they all laughed and agreed. Another said she ‘didn’t blame you one bit for missing the caroling.’ That you were probably ‘getting busy with him.’ Whatever that means.”

  “Oh, Hailey, I’m so sorry you were exposed to gossip because of me.”

  The girl shrugged. “They didn’t know I heard them, but it made me feel bad. I don’t like them talking about you. Or John. They don’t even know him.”

  “I don’t like it either. It’s not nice to gossip or talk behind someone’s back.”

  Hailey got a thoughtful look on her face. “You know what?”

  “What?”

  “They kinda sounded jealous of you. Like when I told the other girls that I got to feed the big horses and take the mare into the barn after our sleigh ride.”

  “You shouldn’t brag, Hailey.”

  “I didn’t, I was telling them the truth about how much fun it was, and that John and Pops are so nice, helping with Operation Snowball.” She paused. “All the girls say you’re dating John, and that he could be my father someday.”

  Heather released the breath she’d been holding. She came around the counter and hugged her dear, sweet child. “I love you, Hailey, with all my heart. Nothing, and no one, will ever change that. And no one will ever replace your father. But John and I are dating. We decided last night. I wanted to tell you first, not to have you hear it through town gossip. However, now I’m concerned. How do you feel about us, being together?”

  “I think...” Hailey looked at her feet before turning back to Heather. “I think it’s a good thing. There’s a lot of room in our family. It’s only been you and me for as long as I can remember. But look at Mr. Tinsel. He’s new, and I love him.” She paused to rub her sleepy eyes. “Do you love John?”

  “I might,” Heather admitted to her daughter and herself. “I believe so. But I also think it would be wise to see if we’re a good fit together. To get to know each other better. For you to know John better, too. Would that be okay?”

  The girl smiled. “Can we start by going to the farm today?”

  “Absolutely.”

  HEATHER PARKED BEHIND the red barn before three o’clock. She’d closed the shop early, telling Hailey it was because things were slow. The real reason was her brain and heart were fried from worrying. News of the rumor mill around the kitchen table made her angry. Yet, this was Dickens, a small town where everyone knew everyone else’s business.

  Hailey rushed ahead when she saw one of her friends from last night, declaring she was off to introduce the girl to the now infamous Mutton Chops.

  Heather laughed. Of all the animals to cozy up to.

  The mother of the girl was there, looking at wreaths, when she rounded the corner into the busy farmyard.

  “Heather. Hi,” she exclaimed upon spying her. “We missed you last night.”

  I bet you did.

  Heather worked to maintain a pleasant smile when saying, “Thanks. But it sounds like you had fun without me.”

  Together they watched their girls, petting animals through the fence.

  “How was your evening out?” The prying one leaned closer to whisper. “I saw you at the tree lighting ceremony. You and John Gridley looked very...well...happy together.”

  That’s it! In her head, at that very moment, Heather decided. Enough is enough.

  She stood tall and beamed at the other woman. “I had the best time. Have you met John? He’s so wonderful. Such a good man.”

  The self-righteous expression withered on the other woman’s face. “No. I haven’t had the pleasure.”

  “Well, it’s high time you did. He’s back from his travels, living here in Dickens for the foreseeable future. An honorably discharged veteran of the United States Army. He’s helping his father with the farm now. If you hadn’t heard.”

  “You don�
��t say?”

  Heather continued, smiling until her cheeks hurt. “I’m sure he’s around here somewhere. I’ll introduce you. He asked Hailey and I to join him for Sunday dinner. So thoughtful. He knows how much she loves all the animals.”

  “Nice.” The woman looked like she’d stepped into a pile of something ripe.

  “Well, I’d better go,” Heather told her. “You have a lovely day. I know I will.” She strolled away, fighting the urge to outright laugh at the deadpan expression on the woman’s face. No doubt, in less than one hour, this latest news—a more accurate portrayal of John—would be circulating around town.

  Heather found Pops, helping someone with a precut tree.

  “There’s the pretty lady now,” he said when she approached. “I was just telling my old friend about you and your sweet girl.”

  “Aww...that’s so nice.” She exchanged greetings before asking, “Have you seen John?”

  “Just did. He went back to the storage barn for more twine.”

  “Okay. I’ll find him.”

  She had to admit, as she strolled through a sea of happy holiday shoppers, that life in a small town wasn’t an entirely bad thing. Despite the challenges it sometimes posed, Dickens was charming. It was home. Even more so now as the possibility of a bright future, filled with loving John, lay before her.

  Heather felt content as she headed for the back barn.

  The big door suddenly burst open, and John ran smack into her, catching her before she tumbled to the snowy ground.

  “S...S...Snowball,” he stuttered.

  “What?” she exclaimed. “And what’s with you and doors?”

  “I think I found Snowball,” he uttered in obvious disbelief.

  “No way.”

  “Yes way.” He grabbed her elbow and dragged her into the dimly lit space stacked high with crates and sacks. He rushed her to a far corner, slammed to a stop, and pointed.