Chapter 17
What a night.
Nick slipped out of the house into the brisk air, away from the chaos surrounding Grace.
She’d promised she hadn’t fainted, had only felt lightheaded from not eating enough and missed the chair when she went to sit down.
A neighbor had misinterpreted the fall as fainting and sounded the proverbial alarm.
Olivia had taken the panic from there, and before they knew it, the party was over, neighbors were heading home…
and he and Holly hadn’t had a single moment to discuss what happened between them.
Were there even words? Half an hour later, his lips still burned, and not from the cold air chafing his skin. It’d felt so natural to hold her. Inhale her vanilla scent.
But had she meant it, or was she just performing for Operation: Jack & Sally?
The door shut behind Nick with a quiet snap, further drowning out the passionate debate going on indoors, peppered by Janie and Mason’s reminders that they hadn’t seen Santa yet.
Everyone was sugared up and at a ten. And despite how many times Grace protested, Olivia and her siblings wouldn’t ease up about her health.
At one point, Olivia had even dug her mother’s pocket calendar out of her purse and started looking for available days to make a doctor’s appointment.
Enough was enough. Time to talk to Thomas, make sure he understood where all the paranoia was coming from. And if word had somehow gotten around about Nick and Holly’s mistletoe moment, well…Nick might have some explaining to do.
Which was going to be difficult since he had zero answers to the questions flying around his own head.
“Had enough?” Eyes closed, head back, Thomas sat on one of the front porch chairs, wearing a buttoned jacket and loosely holding a thermos of coffee.
“They’re louder than the party was.” Nick pointed behind him.
Thomas opened one eye. “Not as loud as that sweater.”
Nick shrugged into his jacket sleeves. “It’s something, isn’t it?
” And they hadn’t even won. Granted, he and Holly had been kissing under the mistletoe while the official judging was going on for the few guests who’d actually participated, but one teenager’s sweater featuring a snowman comprised of glued-on candies had been a fan favorite.
Not that Thomas needed those details. Nick started across the deck, the wooden boards creaking under his weight.
“The porch is sound, I promise.” Thomas braced one booted foot on the railing in front of him, leaning his chair farther back. The empty hanging baskets swayed in the wind. “These old houses just have character.”
“I believe it.” Nick took the rocker next to Thomas, wishing he’d snagged a cup of coffee for himself. “Though honestly, I’d still love this property even if I did have to fix the porch.”
Thomas smiled a little as he looked forward, gaze resting on the sprawling acreage framed by snow-dusted woods. An owl hooted in the distance. “Glad to hear it.”
That seemed a good sign, right? Nick’s shoulders inched away from his ears.
He must still be in the running for consideration.
But before they talked about that, Thomas had to know about Olivia’s assumptions.
He couldn’t keep standing by while Holly’s siblings assumed their mother was deathly ill at the holidays.
Best to get it over with. Nick leaned back in the chair, hooking one ankle over the other. “I should’ve told you this sooner, but I think Holly and her sisters—especially Olivia—are convinced something is wrong with Grace’s health.”
Thomas chuckled, his eyes crinkling. “Grace sure isn’t helping stop that idea, is she? All these little spells she’s been having.”
There was definitely that. “Yeah, everyone thinks that’s why Grace wanted all the siblings to come home this year in particular—because she’s sick and wants to tell everyone together after Christmas.”
Thomas shook his head. “It’s just her hypoglycemia acting up. She’s been too busy to manage it like she usually does.”
“Makes sense.”
“Olivia has always been a little mama hen. But there’s nothing to cluck about, I promise.”
“There are a few details you might not realize, though.” Nick filled Thomas in on the events leading up to Olivia’s “diagnosis” of her mother last week, how she assumed the worst after hearing part of the Sinclairs’ conversation in the kitchen.
“I knew her assumption wasn’t true, because I know about your plans for Florida. But I couldn’t say anything.” Nick paused. “I started to feel guilty, going along with letting them think something that intense right around Christmas.”
“That’s big of you. And I’m sorry we put you in that position.
” Thomas nodded slowly. “Honestly, my Grace has missed her girls so much lately—especially with all this moving talk—I think she’s playing into it.
She’d deny it, but she loves when Olivia walks with her, or when Kat and Chloe cater to her.
Help her bake, bring her stuff.” He winked before taking a sip of coffee. “But you didn’t hear that from me.”
“Yes, sir.” Nick nodded. “I just wanted you to be aware.”
“I appreciate that and will make sure Grace knows too. If she wants to keep up all the attention after that, it’ll be on her.” He chuckled.
Good. Nick sighed. His part was over, with no harm done.
He relaxed fully into the chair, closing his eyes as the owl struck up another nighttime chorus. Rocking on a country porch, listening to the sounds of winter, recovering from a full day of mentoring teenagers…“I could get used to this.”
Oops. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. He didn’t want Thomas to think he was dropping a hint or being pushy.
Thankfully, the older man didn’t seem to take it that way. “It is nice out here. One of the things I’ll miss.” Thomas eyed Nick, his gaze thoughtful. “Why don’t we finish that conversation we started the other night by the court? Tell me more about this dream of yours. Why it’s important.”
Nick nodded slowly. This moment felt…big. Important, like a job interview. He couldn’t screw it up. And yet, he couldn’t be anything but honest.
Ironically.
“I got in some trouble as a teenager. Made some really bad decisions and got sent to a youth camp like the one I want to start.” He swallowed, appreciating the lack of judgment on Thomas’s face.
“There was a worker there named Red.” Nick’s gaze drifted back to the sprawling land stretching beyond the Sinclair home. “He saved my life.”
“How so?” Thomas continued rocking.
“He was there, you know? Made me feel heard. He showed me how to shoot midnight three-pointers on the court, gave me extra responsibilities because he saw how I thrived when I had more to do.”
Even now, Nick’s fingers itched to catch the ball Red endlessly bounced to him, shot after shot.
Hour after hour. Teaching Nick how to stay calm.
“He showed me how to channel my stress and anger into the proper release. But more importantly, he showed me how to fail and not think of myself as a failure.”
Thomas nodded thoughtfully. “Sounds like a good man.”
“He’d love this place.”
“That’s why you were so happy to see the court.” Thomas smiled. “I get it.”
“I know the work will be exhausting, but I imagine it’s a different kind of tired than when I come home from work now.” Nick shrugged. “It’s got to be more of a fulfilling, productive type of tired.”
Thomas nodded again. “The kind that comes when you know you’ve spent your day doing what you were called to do.”
“Exactly.” And not just doing what you assumed would make others proud.
“That’s good to hear. Really good. I’m glad we finally got to cover that.
” Thomas cleared his throat. “And speaking of things we maybe should’ve said sooner…
” Nick raised his eyebrows. He slowed the motion of his rocker.
“Look, I’m not sure how this whole thing with you and Holly started, but I want you to know… ”
Nick sucked in his breath. Here it was—the condition about the property.
“I’m pretty happy with it.”
Nick released all the air in his body with a single breath. “You are?”
“Of course.” Thomas’s chair squeaked as he shifted to set his thermos on the porch. “I realize I’m the old guy around here, but I know how these things develop. Once you got here, and I heard about the Christmas party date, I thought, how nice. ”
So Thomas didn’t consider Nick in the same boat as Axel when it came to his daughters. That was a relief. Still…
“And then I heard how serious things were between you and Holly and figured that meant it had to have been going on before you ever got here—maybe that’s even part of why you came here at all.”
Oh no. Nick shook his head. He didn’t want Thomas thinking he was here for Holly and not for his dream. His priorities were still very much laser-focused. “Sir—”
“Now don’t worry.” Thomas held up both hands as he sat up, the rocker stopping under his planted feet. “I understand why you wouldn’t want to tell me any of that right out of the gate.”
Because it wasn’t true.
“We liked you right away. But with your being a friend of Ryan’s and now a friend of Holly’s, and hearing what a great ministry you want to start here, well.” A satisfied smile landed on Thomas’s face. “Funny how things have a way of working out, isn’t it?’
Hilarious. Nick swallowed. He couldn’t in good conscience let Thomas keep believing this misconception. What if they gave him the property because he was “dating” Holly? He couldn’t risk that. “Sir—”
The screen door creaked. Ryan appeared in the frame, carrying a cup of punch. “There you two are. Dad, Mom wants to see you in the kitchen.”
“Uh-oh. Am I in trouble?” Thomas grinned as he rose from the chair. “Take my seat, son.”
Double uh-oh. Nick swallowed. He really needed to touch base with Holly before he talked to her brother. What was he supposed to say? Not say?