13. Hudson
CHAPTER 13
Hudson
I leaned back in my chair, a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast in front of me, trying to keep up with Ida’s chatter.
“Well,” Ida said, sipping from her favorite floral mug, “I think you’ll like Harrisburg, once you’re settled in. Close enough to visit but far enough to feel like you’re starting fresh.”
“That’s the plan,” I said, buttering another piece of toast. “But don’t get your hopes up about me coming back here every weekend. I’ve heard recruiting duty is a grind—long hours, not a lot of downtime.”
Ida waved a hand, dismissing my concern like she always did when I tried to temper her expectations. “I’m not expecting weekly visits, Hudson. It’s just nice knowing you’ll be so close for a change. You’ve been a plane-ride away for what, ten years?”
“Twelve,” I corrected gently, though the reminder didn’t sit well with me.
“Exactly.” She gave me a pointed look. “Twelve years of no Thanksgiving, no Christmas, no random breakfasts on a Tuesday morning. I’ll take what I can get.”
“Hey, now, I’ve made it back for a couple of holidays over the years.”
“Not nearly enough, though,” she shot back with a wink as she took a bite of bacon.
I nodded, the weight of her words settling somewhere deep. She wasn’t laying on a guilt trip—not really. Just letting me know she missed me in that way of hers. I’d take a guilt trip from Ida over my train wreck parents any day.
She switched gears with that glint of mischief in her eye I’d come to recognize. “Speaking of things I’m grateful for…”
“Uh oh,” I muttered, taking a sip of my coffee.
“How’s it going with your pen pal?”
I set my mug down and raised an eyebrow at her. “Really?”
“What?” she asked, feigning innocence. “I’m just curious. You seemed so against the idea at first, but now… well, you sure do manage to get a letter out every day, now don’t you?”
I hesitated, trying to come up with something to deflect. But the truth was, she wasn’t wrong. I’d been writing every day—more than that, really. I’d started carrying paper with me everywhere, jotting down thoughts and questions as they came to me, so I’d be ready when it was time to write back. How could I not? This woman’s letters had this way of cutting through the noise in my head, offering something simple and grounding that I craved.
But admitting that to Ida felt like walking into a trap.
“They’re good letters,” I said cautiously.
Ida’s eyes sparkled. “Good enough to make you wonder if your pen pal is more than just some stranger with nice handwriting?”
I snorted. “Okay, let’s be real. How heavy is the matchmaking angle with these letters?”
Her mouth curved into a smile that wasn’t quite a denial. “Hudson Green, what makes you think I’d do something like that?”
“Because you’re you,” I said flatly. “And you’ve never been subtle about wanting me—and everyone else in this town—to find someone. You’ve always been straight with me. Is this one of your schemes?”
“Schemes?” she echoed, pretending to be offended for a beat before sighing with a short laugh. “Is it really so bad for me to want you to fall in love with someone wonderful? Someone local? Someone who might make it easier for me to see you more than once every few years?”
I let out a breath and leaned back in my chair. “I get all that, but it’s not that simple.”
“Would it feel that complicated if I told you how gorgeous and kind and smart your pen pal is?” she asked, her tone teasing. “Because she is, you know.”
“I can tell that from her letters,” I said quietly, though I wasn’t even sure how it was possible to know that she was gorgeous from her handwriting alone. Maybe it was the smile I could read in her words, and somehow I knew it was a pretty one. “I don’t need you to tell me that.”
Ida’s smile widened. “Well, then. Sounds like you don’t need me to do much else. My plan’s working just fine.”
I shook my head, a reluctant smile tugging at my lips. “Did it ever occur to you that my pen pal might not want to be matched up with someone who’s leaving town and about to be extremely busy with work? Now I kind of feel bad for her.”
Ida tilted her head, her smile relaxing into something gentler. “You know, you’ve always been like that.”
“Like what?”
“Always looking out for everyone else. Even when you were a kid, you’d go out of your way to make sure everyone else was okay before you even thought about yourself. It’s a wonderful thing, Hudson—one of my favorite things about you. But you deserve someone who’ll look out for you, too.”
“Ida…” I groaned, running a hand over my face. Didn’t she get that if anyone was to blame for that, it was her? She modeled that kind of thing perfectly.
She shrugged, clearly unfazed. “I’m just saying, if you let yourself really open up to the right person, you might be surprised by how good it feels to be the one taken care of for a change.”
Her words lingered as I took another sip of coffee, staring out the kitchen window at the snowy backyard. Taking care of people was second nature to me. It always had been. After learning how it felt to be taken care of by Ida, I’d spent years putting my unit, my family, everyone else first—and now, somehow, that instinct had kicked in with Sofia.
Even though she wasn’t making it easy.
I thought about the way she’d stiffened when Dane showed up at The Hearthstone, her spine straight but her eyes weary. She didn’t want my help, not really. She didn’t want anyone’s. But that didn’t stop me from wanting to give it.
But then there was my pen pal.
She was taking care of me without even knowing it, giving me something I hadn’t realized I needed until those first few letters started arriving. In yesterday’s letter, she’d told me about how much fun she’d been having participating in the town’s Christmas traditions this season, and her enthusiasm practically jumped off the page. It reminded me of why I’d always liked this time of year, even if I hadn’t had much chance to enjoy it for years. More disconcerting, however, was the amount of hope it filled me with.
Ida’s voice broke into my thoughts. “Hudson?”
I blinked, turning back to her. She was watching me with that knowing look of hers, like she could read every thought that had just passed through my head.
She tilted her head, watching me carefully. “Do you want to know who she is?”
The question hit me harder than it should have. Did I want to know? My immediate instinct was yes. I’d been trying to picture her as I read each letter, wondering who she was, what she looked like, if she smiled as much in real life as her words made me think she might.
But then my mind flashed to Sofia.
The idea of knowing my pen pal’s identity and trying to build something with her while Sofia was right there, close enough to reach but still so untouchable, felt impossible.
I shook my head. “No. I don’t want to know.”
Ida frowned, but it was more curious than disappointed. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” I said firmly, though my chest ached as I said it. “I’ve got enough on my plate right now without trying to add something else to the mix. The letter thing is… nice. Light. I want it to stay that way.”
She studied me for a moment, then nodded slowly. “All right. But just so you know… you deserve to be happy, Hudson. And if that happiness comes from your pen pal, or from anywhere else, I’ll be cheering you on.”
Ida’s phone buzzed on the table, and I was saved from having to reply. She glanced at the screen before picking it up with a knowing smile. “It’s Joan,” she said, tilting the phone so I could see the name before she put it to her ear. “Morning!”
I tuned her out at first, finishing my coffee and letting my thoughts drift back to the conversation we’d just had. But then Ida’s tone shifted—still calm, but sharper now, more curious. It was the tone she used any time there was hot gossip on the streets of Snow Hill, but there was also an edge to it that didn’t sit right with me.
“Behind the grocery store? Are you sure?” she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly. She paused, listening, then frowned. “And who was the man he was with?”
Something in her expression had my muscles tensing.
“Well, that’s odd,” Ida said. “No, I haven’t seen him, but if I do, I’ll let you know.” She paused, then added, “Sounds good. I’ll pass it along.”
She hung up and set the phone down, but before she could reach for her mug, I asked, “Pass what along?”
“Oh, you know the phone tree. I get a call, I make a call.”
I lifted a brow. “Okay, and what would the call be about?”
Ida leaned forward, pausing like she was trying to choose her words—or maybe drag out the suspense. I couldn’t be sure with her. “Joan said Dane was spotted arguing with a man behind the grocery store late last night. Apparently, it looked… heated.”
“Did they recognize the other guy?”
She shook her head. “Didn’t sound like it. Maybe it was too dark outside.”
I leaned back, processing that. Was a tourist hassling him? Was it the other way around? Then again, tourists didn’t hang out behind grocery stores in the middle of the night. And they definitely didn’t veer away from their holly jolly vacation vibes to pick arguments with guys like Dane.
“Have you heard if Dane came to town alone?” Ida asked, watching me carefully. “Maybe whoever it is came to Snow Hill with him.”
“I don’t know,” I said, keeping my tone neutral. But inside, my instincts were already humming. If Dane was stirring up trouble, I needed to know more about it.
Ida studied me for another moment, then gave a small nod. “Well, just be careful, Hudson. The whole town is talking about Dane after the scenes at the coffee shop and the bar. Sofia might not live here—yet—but she’s one of our own regardless on account of her being Tommy’s flesh and blood.”
I’d heard every word of what she’d said, but one thing stuck out. “Yet?”
“What, dear?”
“You said Sofia didn’t live here yet. What does that mean?”
The same devious smile she’d used when discussing the matchmaking pen pal letters flitted over her lined face. “Oh, honey. I’ve been hoping that girl would become a transplant since I first met her last year. Rumor has it, she’s making plans to stay, but I’d really like for Dane not to ruin it by chasing her away.”
Wait… Sofia might be staying?
Ida’s words hit me harder than I expected, sparking something that felt a lot like hope deep inside my chest. But just as quickly, that feeling was tempered by the sharp edge of reality.
Dane had already chased her away from her life in Philadelphia. Then, he’d followed her here, dragging his chaos in tow. If Sofia wanted to make Snow Hill her home, she deserved to do it without his shadow hanging over her. And if it came down to it, I wasn’t about to let him—or anyone else—chase her away.
Not this time.