Only this wasn’t the right setting, and he frowned at the nearly empty space he was standing in. An oversize chair and sofa sat in the corner near Shakespeare’s domain, opposite a coffee table and buffet that held a small flat-screen TV. Granted, the carved tables looked like antiques, and the leather upholstery felt as smooth and rich as butter, but other than that, there was nothing. Except for the most eclectic assortment of objects he’d ever seen.
African masks and dainty statues of ballerinas were mixed in among things he couldn’t even come close to identifying. In its paws, a stuffed koala held a frame with a picture of a younger Julia cuddling the real thing, and he smiled as he recalled her telling him about the furry orphan. More photos were tucked in here and there, but the most impressive part of her collection was on the other side of the room.
Books. Hundreds of them, first and second editions, in English, Italian, French, Greek, even a few in Russian. Shelved alphabetically by author, they represented the best classical literature ever published. There’d been a time when he’d hoped to join these authors, his heroes, on the shelves of people smart enough to appreciate great writing when they saw it. Unfortunately in college he’d discovered that his hard-hitting style was better suited to reality than fiction. But standing here, facing the authors who’d inspired the dream he’d put away years ago, made him wish he’d kept trying.
If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.
His father’s pragmatic New England wisdom echoed in Nick’s memory, dragging him back to reality. He was a reporter, here to do a story on a captivating woman who’d basically given him carte blanche to investigate her life. It was time he got to work.
He could still hear her tapping away on her computer, so he decided it was okay to do a little digging. Scanning the titles, he found one of his favorites and slipped a copy of A Christmas Carol from its spot. He opened the cover, and his jaw fell open as he read the inscription scrawled on the embossed bookmark.
For Julia, a fellow lover of Dickens who would have charmed Scrooge himself.
It was signed by the Prime Minister of England.
Whoa. Very carefully, Nick closed the book and slid it back into place. A spot check of the others showed the majority of them were gifts, mostly from men. While he wasn’t surprised to discover she had a horde of admirers, it did bother him. Why, he couldn’t say, and he pushed the puzzling reaction aside when he heard her footsteps in the hallway.
“See anything that interests you?” she asked, nodding toward her impressive library.
The woman standing in front of him interested him very much, but Nick opted not to share that just yet. After their very personal conversation earlier, he didn’t want to do or say anything that might make her feel pressured. The last man she’d had faith in had betrayed her in the worst way possible. Nick suspected it would take some time to convince her that—although male—he could be trusted.
“It’s quite a collection, that’s for sure. You can read all these languages?”
She laughed. “Hebrew and Japanese aren’t in my repertoire, but I’m solid with the others. When you travel as much as I do, it really helps to know several languages. What about you?”
“Some high school Spanish, but that’s it.” He glanced around with a sigh. “I’ve always wanted to travel, though.”
“Why haven’t you?”
Her simple question made him wonder why, too, and he shrugged. “Never got around to it, I guess. Getting away from here was enough.”
“Nick?” The gentle tone got his attention, and he turned to face her. “What happened between you and your father?”
Every muscle in his body tensed, and he scowled. “That’s none of your business.”
She never even blinked. She was either the bravest woman he’d ever met or the most foolish. “I trusted you with the truth about myself,” she reminded him calmly, settling on the arm of the only chair in the room. “You can do the same with me. I promise.”
“I don’t think so.”
“It’s obvious something awful happened to your family. I’m not asking to be nosy—I’m asking because I want to help. They all went out of their way to make me feel at home when I moved here, and I’ve come to love them very much. They’re fantastic people, and I can’t imagine what could be so terrible that you’d cut yourself off from them for so long.”
No one invaded his privacy this way, and for good reason. If they dared to try, he’d deliver a parting blow and storm out, slamming a door behind him for good measure. For some reason, he stood his ground with Julia, though he was glowering for all he was worth. “Maybe I’m not so wonderful. Did you consider that?”
“Not for a second. Lainie wouldn’t love you the way she does if you were anything less than wonderful.”
Mesmerized by those sparkling blue eyes and the soothing lilt of her voice, he heard himself say, “It’s a long, sad story.”
“I have time.”
She didn’t even glance at her watch, and he was reminded of how she’d ignored the time when Hannah had asked her to stay. Accustomed to racing from one deadline to the next, that attitude was totally foreign to him. “Don’t you have to open your store?”
She waved that concern away in the regal gesture that seemed to be part of her personality. Great, he thought with a mental groan. He’d just met the woman, and already he was memorizing her quirks. That didn’t bode well for his sanity during this assignment.
“One nice thing about doing business in Holiday Harbor—a half-hour doesn’t make much difference one way or another. Would you like some more coffee?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
As he made himself comfortable on the sofa, Nick recognized that she’d picked up on his nerves and was offering him a chance to pull himself together. Not to back out of ’fessing up, though. Generous but tough, he mused with a grin. In his experience, most people were one or the other, and he’d never thought to find that unusual combination in such a gorgeous woman. Just one more thing that made her stand out among all the others he’d known.
Shakespeare edged down his pole, stopping near Nick’s seat. Tilting his feathered head, he gave Nick an unsettlingly intelligent look. “All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players.”
In spite of himself, Nick laughed. “Dude, you have no idea.”
“I’m glad you two are getting along,” Julia said as she came in carrying a tray with two steaming mugs and a carafe of the most delicious coffee he’d ever smelled. “It didn’t take me long to discover the Bard isn’t fond of men in general.”
“Kind of a watch bird, huh?” Nick picked up his mug and inhaled the heady scent of a tropical island. The smell alone was enough to get his brain in gear, and he asked, “What is this stuff? And how’d you find it way up here?”
“It’s a Kona blend. I occasionally buy a bag of it from Amelia Landry when I’m at her bookstore, but she won’t tell me where she gets it. Even Bree and Cooper don’t know, but it goes really well with gingerbread.”
After a long sip, he commented, “Not a fan of gingerbread myself.”
“Ah, yes,” she said, leaning back in her chair to cross one slender leg over the other. It was a classic film-star pose but one that looked completely natural on her. “One more reason for hating Christmas. You were going to tell me how all that came about.”
Actually, he’d rather take a header off the town’s famous Last Chance Lighthouse into the icy ocean. Admitting that would sound pathetic, though, so he swallowed another mouthful of coffee and retreated back into his painful past. “You probably don’t know I was the middle child in our family. Our brother, Ian, was three years older than me and he was just about perfect. Even when we were kids, he knew he wanted to be a preacher.”
When he paused, Julia smiled encouragement. “Like your father.”
“Yeah. Anyway, one day we were out fishing, and we started messing around in the boat. Trying to knock each other off into the water with the o
ars—you know how kids do.” Pausing again, he took a deep breath and stared down at the mug in his hands. “I came in too hard, and Ian went flying out. He stayed down a long time, but I didn’t think anything of it. He used to fool around like that, trying to scare me, so I figured he was doing it again.” Out of pure, stubborn pride, he met her gaze. “He never came back up.”
“Oh, Nick,” she whispered, sympathy shining in her beautiful eyes.
“When I realized something was wrong, I dove in and found him near some rocks we hadn’t known about. I pulled him out, but it was too late. The sheriff figured Ian hit his head when he fell and drowned within a minute.”
“How old were you?”
“Twelve. Ian was our father’s favorite, then and now, and Dad never let me forget it. No matter what I did, I could never live up to what he wanted because I wasn’t Ian. Finally, I gave up trying and went the opposite way of everything he ever taught us. Somehow, it seemed easier that way,” he added quietly.
When she didn’t respond, he looked up to find her studying him with a pensive expression. He didn’t like the feeling it gave him, and he braced himself for whatever she was about to say.
“Are you saying your father blames you for Ian’s death?”
“Why wouldn’t he? It was my fault.” Nick made it a point not to think about it too much because every time he did, his heart twisted with fresh grief for the tragedy that had scarred his family. The fact that it could have been avoided only made him feel worse, and although he’d accepted long ago that he couldn’t change the past, he wished there was some way to lock it away and destroy the key.
Without asking, Julia refilled his mug. “I’m sure Ann and Lainie don’t feel that way. Awful as it was, what happened was an accident. You didn’t mean to hurt your brother.”
“I did worse than hurt him,” Nick insisted, leaning in to make her understand. “Me being stupid cost Ian his life, and my family lost everything he could’ve been. He was smart and funny, and he really cared about people, even at that age. When Dad retired, Ian would’ve taken over the church and kept it all going. When he died, everything changed.”
“For you, too,” she reminded him gently. “You’ve spent most of your life trying to escape it. Now I understand why you moved so far away. It wasn’t the weather or the size of the town—it was the memories.”
“I never should’ve let Lainie talk me into coming home. It was a huge mistake.” Julia held his gaze for several long, uncomfortable moments. When a faint smile lifted the corner of her mouth, he asked, “What?”
“You said ‘coming home,’ not ‘coming back.’ Does that mean you still consider Holiday Harbor your home?”
This classy lady was a lot sharper than he’d given her credit for, and Nick fought the urge to squirm like a kid caught breaking the rules. Kind but firm, she’d somehow managed to skirt his usual defenses and get to the core of what made him tick. No woman had ever upended him that way, and he wasn’t crazy about it. “I don’t get attached to places the way other people do. Give me a laptop and a wireless connection, and I’m good to go.”
“Interesting, but you didn’t answer my question.”
Nick brushed off her observation with a short laugh. “I thought I was supposed to be interviewing you.”
“True, but while you’re doing that, we’re bound to learn a few things about each other.”
There was an intriguing twinkle in her eyes he hadn’t noticed before, and Nick took that as an encouraging sign that she was warming up to him. With most people, he knew more than he wanted to within minutes of meeting them. But the more he learned about Julia, the more he wanted to know. “You mean, like friends do?”
Her smile warmed. “Just like that. We’re about as different as two people can be, but with a little effort, I think we could be great friends.”
Nick watched her thoughtfully as she stood and picked up the tray to take it back into the kitchen. He didn’t usually make a habit of singling out a particular woman to spend his time with, and the thought of doing it now rattled him. He dated when he had the chance, but he never got involved. It was too much work, he’d always told himself, and having a girlfriend required more of his energy than he cared to give.
While that strategy had stood him well through the years, he couldn’t shake the impression that Julia was different. Remarkable as she was, a woman like her just might be worth the risk.
For some other man—someone without a train wreck for a past. Someone who could give her a solid and certain future. Not for him.
*
Later that week, the bells on Toyland’s front door jingled, and Julia looked up to find Mavis Freeman striding into her shop. The keeper of Holiday Harbor’s famous lighthouse, Mavis was notorious for her crusty demeanor and sharp tongue. But to the right people, she allowed a glimpse of a good heart. Julia was fortunate enough to be one of those people.
Coming around the counter, she greeted her visitor warmly. “Good morning, Mavis. How are things out on the point?”
“Drafty and cold,” the woman grumbled. “I came into town for a few things and thought I’d stop to see how you’re doing with your store.”
Julia knew perfectly well no one wanted the honest answer to that, so she replied the way she always did. “Very well, thank you. I’ve got some fresh goodies from the bakery. Would you like something?”
“Not here for treats.” Fishing in the pocket of a heavy man’s coat that was much too big for her, the woman took out a crumpled ten dollar bill. “I heard you got a drive going on, to get toys out to young ’uns around town. I can’t afford much, but I wanted to bring in something to help ’em have a good Christmas.”
“Bless you,” Julia said as she took the money. “Every donation is important.”
“I don’t know what to buy, so I’m hoping you’ll take care of that part.”
“Of course.”
“None o’ them half-starved supermodel dolls,” Mavis clarified with a scowl. “Go with building blocks or art supplies, something like that.”
Julia took the brusque order with a smile. “I just got in a new shipment, and there are plenty of both.”
“Good.” Glancing toward the fireplace, the older woman squinted at the table where Nick was tapping away on his laptop. “My eyes ain’t what they used to be. Is that Nick McHenry?”
Looking up, he grinned over at her. “Sure is. How’re you, Mavis?”
“Well, don’t sit over there and make me shout,” she scolded. “Come say hello like a normal person.”
Julia wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t seen it for herself, but Nick hurried over and gave the bristly keeper a hug. Holding her at arm’s length, he asked, “Better?”
“Some.” Giving him a stern up-and-down, she harrumphed. “Dressin’ kinda fancy these days, aren’t you?”
“What? You don’t like Italian wool?”
“Good old American wool does fine for most of us,” she informed him tartly. “What’re you doing here anyway?”
“Writing a series of articles about our local celebrity.” Nick traded a glance with Julia, and genuine fondness sparkled in his eyes. Whether it was prompted by Mavis or her, she couldn’t be certain, but it was a noticeable change.
“How ’bout that? Is it any good?”
He laughed. “Sunday’s intro is free, so you can read it for yourself and let me know what you think.”
“That’s a good idea,” she approved, “giving folks a taste so they’ll come back for more.”
“Thanks.”
“Well, I’d best let you get back to it,” she said before turning to Julia. “Remember what I said about that gift now.”
“Building blocks or art supplies.”
“Good girl.”
Giving them each a short nod, Mavis left the shop as quickly as she’d appeared.
Once she was gone, Nick turned to Julia with an amazed expression. “There are a lot of nuts in this town, but she’s the toughe
st of the bunch. How did you get on her good side so fast?”
“By being patient. Once you get to know her, she’s a delightful woman.”
“I know, but not many around here take the time to find that out.” After a thoughtful look, he added, “I think I underestimated you.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” she said with a laugh. “Most people do.”
“By the time I’m done with your biography, they won’t make that mistake anymore.”
His gaze warmed considerably, and alarm bells started ringing in her head. Hoping to stall any romantic notions that might be forming, she very politely said, “I’ll look forward to that.”
His shameless grin told her he’d read straight through her tactful response, and it didn’t bother him in the least. Fortunately, he didn’t say anything more but sauntered back to his workspace and started loading equipment into his bag. “I’m way behind on this week’s edition of Kaleidoscope. You probably won’t see much of me the next few days.”
She’d gotten used to him trailing after her, so it would be strange not to connect with him every day. Now that she thought about it, maybe that was for the best. He was very charming when it suited him, and it wouldn’t take much effort for her to become attached to him. Since that wasn’t part of her carefully orchestrated plan, keeping him at a reasonable distance made sense. To her head anyway.
“All right,” she said. “Things will be busy around here, but when you’re ready for another interview just let me know.”
“Will do.”
Shrugging his coat on, he shouldered his leather bag and pulled on his gloves. Then, with a quick wave, he was gone.
*
After working like a dog to get this week’s issue ready, Nick cracked his eyes open Sunday morning, trying to figure out what had woken him up. After a few bleary seconds, the answer hit him: silence. Lainie’s house was never quiet, and now it echoed with emptiness. Picking up his phone, he saw it was ten o’clock, which meant everyone was at church and wouldn’t be home for a while.
Love Inspired December 2013 - Bundle 2 of 2: Cozy ChristmasHer Holiday HeroJingle Bell Romance Page 46
