CHAPTER SIX
Nate tried to look nonchalant as Hannah Leigh stepped into his path, carrying a big plastic tub and placing it next to a stack of others just like it.
“I figured you’d be halfway through the lights by now.” The bin rustled with every step.
Nate blurted out a little white lie, “I got delayed making sure Birdie didn’t glue tinsel to the exit signs. Again.”
“Sounds like her.” Hannah Leigh shook her head. The familiar warmth cracked the cold bite in the air. “She means well.”
“So do fireworks, but they’re still loud, messy, and best admired from a safe distance.”
She walked past him, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, and set the bin down with a thump. “I heard you worked on the remodel of this place. I’d never have known this used to be a school.”
His shoulders lifted a bit. “Thanks. It’s been a labor of love. It’ll be cool to see how the town uses Dogwood Hall for the holidays. You know how the town gets when Christmas rolls around.”
Hannah Leigh tilted her head, a teasing glint in her eye. “Like a sugar rush with a to-do list?”
He gave a low, good-natured laugh. “Exactly.”
“Only Aunt Winnie seems determined to outdo her best this year.”
Nate rubbed the back of his neck. “Not a simple task,” he said, knowing that also meant his job would be bigger too. “So, I hear we’re putting up lights.”
“Yep.” She raised a tangled ball of lights from the top of the box she’d brought in. “Santa’s spaghetti, anyone? It’ll take longer to untangle this mess than to hang them.”
He eyed the mess. “Well, with both of us working on it, I’m sure we can get it done.”
They got to work in companionable silence, untangling strings of lights to hang, the kind that blinked with the rhythm of a country fiddle. As they worked, Hannah Leigh ran her fingers across the edge of the windowsill, pausing.
“This used to be my classroom in the fourth grade. Miss Parrish. She had a thing for cardinal decorations.”
“I remember that about her,” Nate said. “She moved away a few years ago.”
“Aunt Winnie received a postcard from her last year from Florida where her daughter lives. Said she misses the dogwood blooms but not the snow.”
“Can’t say I’d blame her.” He held up a length of flocked garland. “This should fit right over that doorway. What do you think?”
“It’ll be perfect.” She took the other end, and they walked over to install it.
Nate hammered a few nails into the wall so they could drape it around the door frame. His arm brushed against Hannah Leigh as she lifted the garland up to him.
He froze, and she didn’t budge. He tried to subdue the zing that had shot through him, cleared his throat, and changed the subject. “How have things been going?”
She glanced at him. “Pretty good. I thought coming back here would be hard, but it’s been nice so far.”
“Yeah. I get that. You’re used to being in the city. This probably isn’t that exciting to you.”
“No. Not at all.” She looked across the space. “It’s nice to see so many familiar faces all pitching in.” She lifted an untangled string of lights for him to hang.
He made quick work of it. He wanted to say more. To ask about the job in D.C. and the reason behind that shadow in her eyes. Instead, he picked up the extension cord and plugged in the lights.
They both turned to admire the colorful glow over the doorway of Dogwood Hall.
“It’s beautiful,” she said.
“Needs people, music, and hot cocoa in a cup the size of a mop bucket.”
“Of course.” Her hands came together, curling as though around a mug of something warm. “Bringleton’s. It was always the best.”
“Still is. You know what…hold that thought. I’ll be right back.” He dashed out to his truck. Her laugh stayed with him all the way back to his truck, soft as sawdust and twice as impossible to shake.
For a half-second, he considered driving to Bringleton’s, but with it only a quarter mile away, he’d probably spend more time parking, so he broke into a jog toward the coffee shop.
It didn’t take long to grab what he’d gone for. When he stepped back inside, the warmth of the room hit him, and so did the dorkiness creeping up on him for how much effort he’d just spent on cocoa.
Hannah Leigh glanced up from the garland she was untangling, a puzzled smile on her face. “Where did you run off to?”
Nate lifted the box in his hands. Two massive thirty-two-ounce tubs of hot cocoa sloshed inside. “Emergency supply run. Figured we’d earn it before the day’s through.”
He handed her one.
“This is crazy. It’s the size you’d get enough potato salad for the whole family.” Steam curled from holes punched in the lids. “Smells good though.” She sipped, closing her eyes as the sweetness hit her. “Is this much hot cocoa in one sitting even legal?”
“This is South Hill. We measure caffeine and sugar by the quart these days.” He shrugged. “Let’s sit outside. It’s nice.”
She followed him outside to enjoy the mid-morning sun washing over the town. “Thanks for the cocoa and your help.”
He admitted they hadn’t given him a choice. “I don’t mind.”
“Me neither.” Her smile came easily, but silence fell between them as they sat on the bench. “I swear I might overdose on this much chocolate.”
He nodded. “The whole town might become diabetic if this trend lasts past the holidays,” he admitted.
“The mayor might have to create a new violation for that.”
“Don’t tempt him,” Nate warned.
She leaned forward, resting her forearms on her knees. “I forgot how quiet it is here. You can hear yourself think. It’s nice.” She seemed to catch herself. “For a visit.”
Nate smiled, tucking his hands into his jacket pockets. “Careful. This town reels folks in before they know what hit ’em.”
She glanced over, one brow lifting. “How’s that?”
“Starts with a visit,” he said, eyes on the horizon. “Next thing you know, you don’t want to leave.”
“This hasn’t been home for a long time.” Hannah Leigh looked away, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. “Don’t worry. I’m just passing through, not settling in.”
“Guess we’ll see.” He couldn’t resist. “Who knows, maybe now you’re where you’re supposed to be.”
She didn’t answer, but her doubtful expression told him everything he needed to know.
“I have an idea,” he said. “How about we do something spontaneous? Something that didn’t make the clipboard?”
Her mouth opened, and he braced himself for rejection. “I’m not afraid to do something on a whim. Besides, everything on this morning’s list is complete. What’s on your mind?”
“Roll up your sleeves, Hannah Leigh, because we are going to make our own rules.”
The color drained from her face, but she recovered quickly. “Fine. Let’s do this.”
He’d thought he’d finished that chapter with Hannah Leigh, but perhaps it wasn’t over after all.