Letters From Home (Sweet Love Letters)

1. Nick

Chapter one

Nick

Nick Butler glanced around the construction site and frowned. This house wasn’t just old—it had obvious problems. It would need work to be livable again. “There’s a lot of water damage. I’m not sure we’re the right guys for the job.”

He nudged his hammer into a nearby windowsill, then drew back when the rotten wood crumbled under his touch. The windows must be leaking worse than they’d thought.

Nick’s boss, Grant Danielson, shrugged his shoulders. “We need the job. It’ll help build our reputation. Besides, I’m doing it as a favor for Mom. The owner’s got a young kid, and doesn’t have enough money for repairs.”

Nick whistled as he looked around the living room. The plaster was cracking and bubbling underneath the windows, a clear sign of water damage. There might be more issues lurking behind the walls—electrical problems, rodents, or even mold. Fixing up this house wouldn't be cheap.

Frustration surged through him as Nick thought about the family living here. “Didn’t she have the house inspected? We should have a list of issues from the realtor and the inspection report. No kid deserves to live in these conditions.”

“She bought it without an inspection. I guess it’s all she could afford.” Grant sighed and pulled out his notebook, flipping through pages of notes. “It’s tough being a young parent. If we’re lucky, we can get these windows replaced before the next snowstorm. Today's job is to measure for the new windows.”

Nick nodded and picked up his tape measure. Grant was the owner of Grant Construction, so he set the schedule for each project.

At twenty-two years old, Nick and Grant were the youngest contractors in the area. They’d spent the past four years learning the trade with larger companies. Now they hoped to break out on their own and build a reputation as honest workers.

They’d both tired of working for supervisors who cut corners and overcharged customers. When Grant suggested starting a business in their hometown of Sunset Cove, Nick had jumped at the chance.

He glanced out the window. Grant was outside now, checking the porch's structural soundness.

While they were busy building a new business, most of their friends were finishing college degrees or starting a life somewhere new. Nick wasn’t interested in college, and Grant had stayed in town to take care of his mom.

Guys their age were usually worried about having fun. Nick had other priorities.

Nick had grown up in a single-parent home. Maybe that’s why the idea of family and stability had always fascinated him. He’d become the class matchmaker in high school, finding classmates that fit together and giving them a little push.

Nick chuckled, shaking his head as he considered his teenage antics. He’d never found the perfect match for himself. One girl had come close, though—a friend named Jessica Moore. She had a smile that lit up the room.

While he loved pairing up couples, he’d never asked Jessica out. Then one day it was too late—Jessica disappeared from Sunset Cove without saying goodbye. If the rumors were true, she had a little boy now.

Nick found himself thinking about Jessica as he walked through the dilapidated house. He hoped she was in a better place than this, especially if she had a child. No one deserved to live in a house like this.

Nick knew he should be grateful for what life had given him. He might be lonely, but he had the skills to rebuild lives. Even if it took him a decade to find the right woman, he’d use that time to help other people.

That would be enough for now. He wouldn’t start dating random women to ease his loneliness. Nick needed patience.

He finished his notes on the living room and moved to the kitchen. The view wasn’t perfect, but this window would catch the breeze from the bay. This space could be a great breakfast nook once it was fixed up—the owner and her child wouldn’t need a large seating area.

Nick sighed as he took in the warped kitchen floor. It would take work to create that cozy breakfast space. He stepped cautiously over the flooring, testing his weight before he stood in front of the window. The floor seemed solid enough. The damage to the window and wall was a real shame, though. A little maintenance would have gone a long way toward preserving this house.

Nick put his tools on the windowsill and braced his hands against the wood, gazing out the window. Snow blanketed his quiet hometown right now, but the house would be tucked away from the summer tourists.

This would be a great neighborhood to raise a family. There was lots of room to run around and make noise without disturbing the neighbors. All the home needed was a two-person swing on the front porch—a place for the parents to unwind after the kids were asleep.

He shook his head, clearing his thoughts as he leaned closer to the window. This wasn’t his house, and he wouldn’t decide how to decorate the front porch. He’d find his own family one day. This project was someone else’s dream.

But that tree over there, almost out of sight from this window, was perfect for a tire swing. It wouldn’t cost much to treat the mom to a play area. No kid should grow up without a tire swing , he thought, leaning further to check out the tree’s sturdy branches.

There was a CRACK as the wood underneath his hands splintered. Nick held back an oath as the windowsill split from the wall. He knew better than to lean on rotten wood—Nick was so caught up in daydreaming that he’d lost all common sense.

As Nick propped the sill against the cracked wall, he examined the damage more closely. They would rip out the wood and surrounding plaster when they replaced the window, but there was something else here—a small gap, just big enough for his hand. He peered into the space between the window and wall and saw a thin stack of yellowed, aged paper.

He reached out and tugged on the stack. They were stuck tight. With a few wiggles and one last pull, the papers finally fell out of their hiding spot.

Nick stared at the papers, dumbfounded. They were made of thicker material, which was a good thing—they’d clearly been exposed to the moisture from the window. He carefully unfolded the stack.

May 30, 1944

Dear Jimmy,

I’ve missed you while you’re gone. Are you staying safe? I pray for you constantly.

I sit by the radio at night, hoping to hear news that the war is over. My friends say this is foolish. That when you marry a man before he goes to war, you know you’ll be separated. But I can’t help feeling that my heart is with you, wherever you are.

Please keep my heart safe. I look forward to the day you come home. Your parents miss you too, and this house doesn’t feel like home with you gone.

Yours forever,

Barbara

Nick's eyes widened with surprise. These were clearly love letters, written between two newlyweds torn apart by war.

He flipped through the pages, skimming over the words. Jimmy had replied a few times, assuring his wife that he was doing his best to stay out of danger. His wife had shared little updates on life at home. But one letter held big news for her husband overseas.

July 28, 1944

Dear Jimmy,

I have a wonderful surprise! The doctor says our baby will be here around Christmastime. I continue to pray that you come home safely, and soon.

I am setting up a nursery in our little house surrounded by trees. I hope the baby is a boy, with your bright blue eyes and easy smile.

Father says the war will be over soon. He says it’s time for our boys to come home. I hope he is right.

Sending my love, and your child’s love, too. Please keep yourself safe.

Barbara

Nick glanced through the final papers, touched by the woman’s long-ago news. A little house surrounded by trees. Had they lived in this very house? Their child might still live in Sunset Cove. He or she would be about eighty years old, though. Nick would need to ask the homeowner if she wanted to do some research.

He turned to the last sheet, wondering what this note would hold. More good news and a healthy baby? Nick didn’t have a strong memory for dates, but knew World War II ended in the mid-forties.

The smile fell off from his face as he read the final letter. War wasn’t easy for families, and this couple had faced tough times.

August 28, 1944

Dear Barbara,

A baby is wonderful news! I will be home soon, although not because the war is over. The doctors have removed two bullets from my leg. They tell me I will walk again, but I hope you will not judge me too harshly. I tried to stay safe.

People are celebrating in the streets of Paris this week, or so I’ve been told. I wish I could see them. At least some good has come from this fight.

I will be home as soon as travel is possible. Please continue to pray for the friends I am leaving behind.

All my love,

Jimmy

Nick folded the letters and went to find Grant. He’d need to tell his boss about his findings—and the damage in the kitchen.

He wondered if Jimmy and Barbara’s marriage had survived the soldier’s injuries, or if Jimmy had come home in time to see their child being born. The couple had clearly loved each other. Marriages back then had seemed stronger. More likely to endure the test of time.

It made Nick wish he’d worked harder to find the right woman for himself. Maybe things would be different if Jessica Moore hadn’t moved away.

But before Nick could give that idea more thought, the front door crashed open with a burst of cold air. A young woman and child hurried inside, both bundled from head to toe.

“I’m sorry!” the woman rushed to exclaim. “We need dry clothes for Jack. He found a tidepool and went for a little swim. I’ll get him changed, then get out of your way.”

Nick grinned. It was forty degrees outside, which was practically a heat wave for February. The chilly weather didn’t deter most shore natives. He’d spent lots of chilly days peering into tidepools and watching sand swirl with the tide. His own mother hadn’t minded, as long as he warmed up before he “froze like a block of fish.”

“No worries,” he said, stepping back to make room for the tiny family. “Take your time. We’re getting some measurements before we order supplies.” Nick did a double take as the woman popped off her winter hat and unwound the scarf covering her face. “Jessica? Is that you?”

It was like his thoughts of Jessica Moore had snatched her from the past, dropping her back into his life. Nick’s smile widened as he held the wartime love letters in his hand and looked at the girl in front of him.

But she wasn’t a girl anymore, was she? Jessica had grown into a beautiful woman.

Jessica tugged the boots off her son’s feet, setting them on a mat by the door. “Hi, Nick. How are you doing? It’s been a long time.”

Too long, Nick thought, thrilled that they’d wandered into each other's lives again. “I’m doing great. And who’s this little guy?” He kneeled down to the boy’s level and smiled. “Did you have fun at the tidepools?”

“Fishies no like splash,” the boy said, sitting on the floor to tug off his own socks. “Jack likes to splash. Splash! Splash! Splash!”

Nick chuckled and nodded in agreement. “Splashing is fun. It’s a little cold to be splashing, though.”

“Very cold,” Jessica agreed. “We’re going to the bookstore once we have dry clothes. I promised Grant we’d stay out of your hair.”

“There’s no rush,” he insisted. “Stick around if you’d like. We can chat while I finish working.”

She smiled brightly at him, unzipping her son’s coat as she spoke. “Maybe another day. It’s almost nap time—I’ll keep him busy until the house is quiet enough for some rest. Jack gets grumpy when he’s tired.”

“Don’t we all?” Nick chuckled as mother and child walked back to the smallest bedroom to change Jack’s clothing.

Jessica’s smile still warmed his heart, the same way it had in high school. How different would his life be if he’d asked her out? Would their own little boy be running through these halls?

Nick frowned and turned his attention back to the kitchen window. There was no sense in wondering about the past. He could reconnect with Jessica while they worked on her house. He felt a rush of gratitude that they’d be able to help her and Jack.

Grant walked through the door as Jessica and Jack came out of the bedroom. “We’ll finish in about an hour,” he assured her. “You’ll have your quiet house back soon.”

Jessica waved away his worries. “It’s story time at the bookstore. Between the book, crafts, and snack, we’ll have lots to do.” She clutched Jack’s hand, then turned to give Nick another smile. “Nice to see you again, Nick. Thanks for helping Grant fix up the house.”

Nick stared at the door as Jessica closed it behind her, not bothering to hide his goofy grin.

“I know that look,” Grant said, hitting Nick on the shoulder with his clipboard. “Don’t get any ideas. She’s a single mom, and she just moved back to Sunset Cove. She needs space, not a boyfriend.”

“Who said I wanted a girlfriend?” Nick asked casually, holding back a laugh at his boss’s doubtful expression. “I’m husband material.”

Grant groaned and wiped a hand over my face. “Do not harass our client. We need this job, and Jessica doesn’t need some crazy guy rushing her into a relationship.”

“No rushing,” he agreed. It wasn’t rushing when you’d waited years to see someone again. Nick chuckled to himself, wondering how he could convince Jessica to take him seriously. He’d never dated a mom before. Nick liked kids, though. “Dad’s out of the picture, I’m guessing?”

“Dad’s long gone,” Grant agreed. “But I doubt she’s going to fall into your arms, madly in love. She’s got a little boy to think about.”

Nick glanced at the old papers in his hand, his lips twisting into a frown. Jessica’s life was complicated. He couldn’t miss his second chance with her, though. Finding these old love letters, running into Jessica after years apart—it felt like a push from fate.

He should write a few letters to Jessica, too. It had worked for the last couple in this house.