Chapter 3
I could’ve said no. No one made me do anything I didn’t want to. Maybe I should have. But the way Morgan’s face lit up when Arlo made the offer had me agreeing, if not enthusiastically, then at least politely. His elfin features morphed into a huge smile as he demanded we exchange numbers and let me know he’d contact me soon.
Which is how I found myself on the corner of Center and Water streets, in the now empty lot next to the post office, at nine o’clock on a very chilly morning. The grass was covered in frost, a very large wooden crate sat at the edge of the post office’s parking lot, and Morgan was nowhere to be found.
I bounced a little on my toes, taking in the scene. I’d walked despite the frigid temperatures because it didn’t make sense to me to drive the four blocks. And these weren’t city blocks, so it had taken me all of seven minutes to get here. Since Morgan had said to come prepared to do heavy lifting, I’d only worn a down vest over a sweatshirt. My ears were cold but I’d expected to sweat. Now I was just getting irritated.
A tiny electric car buzzed up the street and then whipped into the parking lot. Three seconds later, Morgan popped out of the driver’s side door, this time wearing a hat with earflaps with some sort of knitted pattern on it.
“I’m so sorry!” He yelled, far louder than he needed to in order to reach across the distance. “It’s been a hell of a morning. I apologize for making you wait.”
My irritation vanished because really, he wasn’t even five minutes late and he was far more contrite than the situation allowed. I lifted a hand in acknowledgement, not wanting to yell myself, and Morgan held up one finger asking me to wait. I watched as he disappeared back into the car, then emerged with a crowbar. I instantly started heading his way. We met at the edge of the lot.
“I’m so sorry for my tardiness,” he said, a little out of breath. I noticed his cheeks were flushed, though whether from exertion, the cold, or embarrassment, I couldn’t tell. He handed me the crowbar.
I held it up. “You want me to hit you with this?”
His eyes went wide, but then he caught on that I was joking, and his bright laugh rang out. He shook his head, and said through laughter, “It’s for the crate, if you please. Not for nothing, but I don’t think you’ll struggle the way I do to get it open.”
He was probably right. When Marines had downtime, we worked out. I was still pretty jacked even if I hadn’t lifted a weight in more than a week. But right this second, my attention was focused on something else.
“Morgan?”
“Hmm?” He blinked up at me and I was struck for a second by just how pretty his eyes were. No, I couldn’t get distracted. This was too important.
“Did, uh, someone make you that hat?”
He preened and tugged on the braided ties that hung off the earflaps, then wiggled his head so the pompom on top wobbled. “Why yes! Carrington did. He made my stocking cap I wore the other day too. He owns Yarn Voyage.” He gestured over his shoulder as the shop was just across the street.
I nodded. “Right. Okay. Correct me if I’m wrong, but are those reindeer…fucking?”
His chuckle was filthy. “They certainly are.”
“All right then.”
His expression grew serious, shuffled his feet, and took a step back. “I know, technically, female reindeers have antlers too, but, you know, I think it’s two boys.”
The tentative way he spoke, I could tell he was feeling me out. Trying to figure out if I was going to be one of those ultra conservative no-necks who spouted bullshit about it being a sin or some shit. He didn’t have to worry about that from me.
“Whatever makes them happy.”
Morgan blew out a breath and smiled, the relief evident in his expressive eyes.
“I didn’t think…I mean Arlo is great and he raised you so…” He cleared his throat, then clapped his hands—he wasn’t wearing gloves—and gestured to the crate. “You crack that open. I gotta grab the map.”
He turned back to his car before I could respond, but really, it wasn’t necessary. Mission acquired, I looked over the crate and saw the scratch marks where the side had been pried off previously. I went to work, carefully working the crowbar into the gaps to get it open. Morgan reappeared before I was done, but he waited until I had it loosened enough to pull it off. Together we moved the side out of the way and leaned it against the crate. I peered inside, but I couldn’t quite make sense of what I was seeing.
“What is all this?”
“Christmas,” he answered with a happy sigh. He handed me the paper in his hand. It had definitely seen better days, but the image was clear enough. Hand drawn, but it showed exactly where every tree, reindeer, present, and candy cane went. Ah, that explained it. Lighted decorations.
“You might remember this lot had a bunch of trees,” Morgan began conversationally, as he stepped up to the open crate. “But four or so years ago, Dutch elm disease infected all of them. By the time we figured out what was going on, it was too late to save them, and they all had to come down. It sat empty through the fall. But I got inspiration, and I convinced the town board to bury electric lines for power supply and voila! Our own little lighted decoration corner. It’s a hotspot for photo ops.”
He was very proud of himself. He probably should be. I wasn’t going to take that away from him. And I appreciated that he’d explained and I didn’t have to pull it out of him like at the pub the other day.
“Let’s get to work?”
I nodded and so we did.
I quickly learned that everything was tagged with a number, so it could go in its assigned spot. Some of the pieces had to be assembled and they all had to be staked down. Morgan rambled while we lifted and carried, and it was funny how he trailed off when we got too far apart to speak in a normal voice but picked his narration right up again as soon as we were close again. The electrics had been meticulously placed for the right kind of voltage, or the length of cords. Certain pieces had been gifted, while others bought after extensive searches. Each thing had been chosen or approved by Morgan himself.
His chatter made the time go by quickly, and I was definitely sweating two hours later when everything was in place, plugged in, and staked down. I wiped my forehead with the sleeve of my sweatshirt and surveyed our work. I had to admit, it looked pretty good, even though it was basically just lights on forms.
“Wow. That didn’t take nearly as long as in the past when I’ve had to do it myself.” Morgan said, seemingly delighted by that fact.
I squinted at him. “You do this by yourself every year?”
He nodded. “I do most of most things by myself. I mean, that’s my job. I’ll take volunteers when and where I can, but everybody is busy.” He shrugged like it was no big deal, but I was getting the impression that, even though it was his job, it was, in fact, a big deal. He rubbed his hands together. “And now, the magic.”
He crossed to an electrical box in the corner of the lot I hadn’t noticed before. He unlocked it, then reached in a flipped a switch. The buzz of electricity hummed, and I turned to take in the sight. It was pretty impressive, even in the daylight, but I knew it would look spectacular at night.
“Let’s take a walk around and make sure everything is working, okay?” He was already moving.
After we had confirmed that, yes, every light on every decoration was lit, Morgan went back to the box and fiddled with it. A moment later, everything went dark. I raised an eyebrow.
“Timer. It’ll come on after it goes dark and stay lit all night.” Morgan locked the box back up and walked over to me. “Thank you so much for your help. Really.”
I might have been reluctant to help him when this all started, but I decided right then and there that whatever help he needed over the next few weeks, I would do. Not because he wasn’t capable, because he clearly was, but it was a lot to put on one person’s shoulders. Besides, I had nothing but time on my hands. If I could make his life easier before I moved on, then I would.
I was about to tell him that when his stomach let out a growl so loud, he covered it with his hands, as though that would stop the sound. I narrowed my gaze at him.
“Did you skip breakfast?”
“I mentioned it was a hell of a morning, and I can’t eat right when I wake up, and…” He must have realized he sounded defensive, because he waved it away. “You hungry? I’d love to treat you to breakfast as a thanks for your help.”
I wasn’t, exactly. Not yet. But if it meant he sat down and actually ate, then I would do it. “I could eat.”
“Awesome! Do you want to meet me…wait, where’s your car?” He looked around as if he suddenly realized there was only one other car in the lot. Which I knew had to belong to the postmaster running the office, who I was sure Morgan knew. When I said the town was tiny, I meant it. Last I’d heard, there were less than fifteen hundred people living here.
“I walked.”
Morgan blinked. And then blinked again. As though he couldn’t fathom why I hadn’t driven. I would have explained it if he asked, but he didn’t. He just shrugged.
“Well, hop in. We’ll go to Mirabelle’s. They serve breakfast all day and I could simply demolish a frittata.” Morgan grabbed my hand and tugged me along. I didn’t fight his hold.
It was a tight fit, even with the passenger seat pushed all the way back. Morgan chuckled at the way my knees hit the dash but didn’t say anything. I wasn’t worried, knowing it would be a short trip. Everything in this town was a short trip.
I was right. Mirabelle’s used to be the Corner Café, though I’d never eaten there as a kid. Arlo wouldn’t let me. It was known for having questionable cleaning and food service practices and had closed when I’d been a teen. Now it had a new coat of paint, the picture windows were decorated for winter, and the sign hanging perpendicular to the building was wrought iron. It looked cozy and inviting.
Morgan led the way inside, though I made sure to get to the door before him so I could hold it open. The surprise on his face was gone in a flash and he murmured a thank you as he scooted by me. It wasn’t too busy, only a few tables occupied, and Morgan chose a booth in the back. Our waitress was young, early twenties if I had to guess, and she brought waters and menus before taking our drink order and leaving us to look over the menu. Since Morgan had already decided what he wanted, I was quick to make a selection of French toast with a side of breakfast sausage.
We were sitting with our large coffees, the scents and sounds of cooking wafting around us, when Morgan leaned forward.
“Can I ask you something?”
“You can ask.” The I might not answer was implied.
Morgan nodded, understanding. He took a breath and fiddled with his mug handle. “You really left this town behind and haven’t been back in twenty years?”
My gut clenched. I almost lashed out. Clearly, it was a sensitive topic. People just didn’t run away from a place unless there was a reason. But I didn’t say any of that, because I wasn’t rude.
“Yes.”
“How come?”
Again, I could have told him it was none of his business. Or changed the subject. But Morgan was looking at me with those big blue eyes, and there was nothing but sincerity and earnestness on his face. So I gave him the truth. Or at least part of it.
“Arlo is the only part of this town that I liked.”
“Really?” He asked, absolutely shocked. I nodded again, and he blew out a breath as he sat back. “I can’t imagine that. Truly. I love it here.”
It was the perfect opportunity to change the subject. So I did. “Tell me your story.”
Morgan’s face lit up, and man, he was gorgeous when he smiled like that. But his tone was animated and enthusiastic as he said, “It was total luck and pure chance, honestly. I got my degree in hospitality management. I had this vision of being some phenom in the entertainment industry. Like I’d move to LA and just take the world by storm.” He laughed, a little self-deprecatingly, but moved on quickly. “I was working as a front desk manager at a luxury hotel, incidentally owned by the Wentz’s which is how I knew they were looking to expand, but still dreaming. And one day when I was looking at job ads I forgot to add the right filter. The listing for Hickory Hollow Town Event Coordinator came up.
“It had been there for a while. I later learned that the Board had been trying to fill the position for more than a year, which is probably why they took a chance on a no-name twenty-five-year-old with barely any experience. I wasn’t the only one who applied, but I was the only one who even had some qualifications. The rest is history!”
He ended with a flourish just as the waitress brought our food. I waited until she was gone and was doctoring my French toast before I said, “Seems like what it actually was, was a lot of hard work.”
His mouth popped open, and then he ducked his head. “Well, yeah. But it’s good work. I love it. And maybe the population hasn’t grown that much, but there are people here. All the time. Patronizing businesses and making the town flourish. People are living and not just surviving. And yeah, at its heart, Hickory Hollow is still the same.” He shrugged and forked up a bite of egg. “But a lot has changed for the better. And I’m glad to have had a role in that.”