Chapter 10
Alexander
One thing I’ve learned is that when you have a baby, everything takes ten times longer.
Leaving the house, for example.
Usually, I walk out the door, and that’s that. But with a baby, things are infinitely more complicated.
Does her nappy need changing? Is it too cold? Should she have a bigger hat that covers her ears? Do we have to feed her again? Do we have spare outfits? Do we have enough nappies? Should we double-check her nappy doesn’t need changing?
And all the questions came from me. Haven answered each one patiently before she gave up and walked out, followed by Dolly, who promptly disappeared, likely to find someone she’ll no doubt con to give her lunch.
The other thing? I was carrying Everly strapped to me. Hands-free. Just this piece of material and I are solely responsible for my daughter’s safety.
Haven had asked if I wanted to hold her, and of course I said yes. But I thought I’d be carrying her like I’d done previously, not in a harness. I’d never given any thought to the flimsiness of a harness, but honestly, riding a roller coaster would give me less anxiety.
I’m still not entirely convinced she won’t slide right out of it.
“Alex, you don’t need to keep checking the fastening. She’s secure, I promise. I flew over here with her in it, and she didn’t fall out once.”
I know Haven’s mocking me. I can tell from the way her lips curl and her cheeks hollow like she’s biting her tongue, but I zip my gilet underneath Everly anyway for a little added protection, just in case, and try not to think about the pair of them flying here alone.
“That doesn’t make me feel better,” I grumble.
“Well”—Haven peers inside the harness—“what if I tell you she looks super cozy and cute? And safe.”
I can’t actually see Everly. It’s the one disadvantage of this contraption. She’s pressed against my chest, and I don’t know how she feels about it.
But if Haven says she’s good, then I believe her, and I go back to focusing on the advantages, one of which is that Haven walks so close to me I’m in a permanent cloud of her scent.
It’s different from last year.
Last year, she smelled of pine trees and sugar, and now it’s floral. There’s an autumnal richness that makes me want to sit by the fire with Haven next to me all day with a bottle of Penfolds Grange 95 while Everly sleeps. It’s a picture of domestic bliss that I’ve never envisioned for myself.
Quite frankly, it’s shocking.
It doesn’t help that every person in Valentine Nook stops us, because it seems the entire village has come out today.
Naturally, my walking down Valentine High Street with a baby strapped to my chest is not a usual sight.
While I’m not one to broadcast my private business, I can’t lie and say I don’t enjoy telling people that Everly is my daughter.
It’s no surprise she’s catnip to the Valentine Nook gossips—namely a gaggle of older ladies who spend their days making jam, organizing the next Valentine Nook fair, and deciding where they should have their afternoon tea. But mostly getting on Lando’s nerves with their myriad of requests.
Anxiety aside, this might be the most enjoyable morning I’ve had in a long time.
“Well . . . if she looks cute, then who am I to argue?”
“Exactly.” Haven chuckles. “And this is a cute village, it reminds me of home. Everyone knows your business, right?”
“They certainly do,” I reply, guiding us across to the opposite side of the street after I clock Agatha Chase coming out of her store and turning toward us.
The gaggle I can handle, but I’m not in the mood for Agatha today.
“How long have you lived here?”
“My whole life. My family has been here since the sixteenth century. My ancestors built the village, and it’s grown over the years. My father worked hard to modernize it, but the bones of the place are still exactly the same as they were when it was first constructed.”
Haven gasps. “That’s five hundred years.”
I nod.
“That’s so cool, and so cool to have something like that pass down from generation to generation. I understand what it’s like to want to keep things in the family.”
“You’re talking about Wylder Ranch?”
“Yes,” she replies. “I finally paid off the debt, so I’m not going to have any money for a while, but I can’t sell it. It’s Everly’s future.”
“Our daughter has built quite the property portfolio already.”
Haven peers at Everly, still sleeping soundly, and smiles. I’ve learned already that this particular smile is reserved only for her daughter. I only see it when she looks at her, and I know because my eyes are usually on Haven.
“Will you open your shop again?”
She nods. “I hope so, at some point. When I get back to Colorado, I need to figure it out so I can run it around Everly’s schedule.”
I think back to what Hendricks did for Max, and the help he got because he was still qualifying as a vet at the time and working all hours.
I know Haven doesn’t have the same resources, but it gets my brain ticking all the same.
Living on two different continents is not going to be easy, and it will likely be the hardest thing to work around.
But I also know that before we discuss anything, I need a plan in place.
“What are those guys doing?” Haven asks, pointing at the old stone arch, which marks the beginning of Valentine High Street.
After an hour of walking, we’ve finally reached it.
Two members of the Burlington Estates team—recognizable by their navy-blue jackets with a pale blue logo—are up a ladder, while another two stand underneath the arch, holding tape measures.
“They’re getting ready for Christmas. The arch is decorated, and a wreath is hung in the center. The Valentine Nook tree is put on the green beside the church,” I reply, pointing at the neat stretch of grass across the road, and ignore the way my stomach flip-flops.
“I can’t believe it’s nearly Christmas again,” she mutters. They’re the exact words I was thinking.
Another year without my dad.
But adding to that is: how can an entire year have passed since we met? How can so much have changed?
“What’s Christmas like here?” She quickly follows up with, “I’m so sorry, we can talk about something else. I remember it’s difficult for you.”
I shake my head, both surprised and touched that she remembered my struggle with this time of year. I told her about my father the day we parted. Perhaps it’s that reason I’m not trying to change the subject as quickly as I usually would because I rarely talk about my loathing for Christmas.
It leads to too many unwanted questions, and I prefer to brood in peace.
But I can admit that Valentine Nook is the place to come and enjoy Christmas because just like every other season, the village goes all out with decorations.
“That’s okay. It’s pretty, actually. December first is the day all the lights are switched on, and Mr. Giles starts selling his trees. On Christmas Eve, everyone sings carols in front of the village tree, and there’s always a midnight service in the church.”
Haven’s eyes light up. “Tree selling?”
“Don’t worry, it’s no competition for your store.” I laugh. “It’s not a store at all, just a large pen filled with trees.”
“I’m not judging.” She holds her hands up, turning to face the church as the bells strike the quarter hour. “Do you take part in the carols?”
“No.” I shake my head.
Both of us stand there quietly staring at the churchyard.
I don’t want to ask what she’s thinking because it’s probably along the lines of what everyone else thinks—that I need to let go of the guilt and allow myself to enjoy Christmas. I remember how much Haven loves Christmas because her parents loved it, just like my dad.
It was his favorite time of year.
But try as I might, whenever December rolls around, it brings with it a dark cloud that hovers above me until January. I can already feel it looming, or I could before Haven and Everly turned up.
“What will you do for Christmas?” I ask, attempting to be cheery.
“I’ll be with Saylor’s family.”
I change my mind. Talking about Christmas sucks.
Haven and Everly might have only been here a couple of days, but the reminder they’ll be gone before the worst time of the year shatters the tiny shred of optimism that momentarily appeared. Then she makes it worse.
“It’ll be Everly’s first Christmas.” Haven grins, her eyes sparkling with childlike excitement.
A week ago, I was making my usual plans to get out of here before Christmas so I could let my family enjoy it without ruining their cheer. Now the thought of missing Everly’s first Christmas makes me so fucking depressed I want to cry. Maybe I can go and spend it in Aspen with Saylor’s family too.
Better yet, maybe we can all fuck off to a desert island with wall-to-wall sunshine and not a tree in sight.
“Did I tell you my father’s birthday is September twentieth?” I ask instead.
Haven turns and stares at me. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.” My chin jerks toward the churchyard. “Written on his gravestone and everything.”
“Oh Alex . . .” Her eyes brim, and she snatches away a tear as it falls. “Sorry. Hormones,” she adds, with a sniff. “That’s gotta mean something, right?”
“Yes.” Hope brightens my eyes, and all thoughts of Christmas vanish. Finally, someone who understands. “That’s what I said.”
“Well, Everly is very lucky to share a day with a guy who built all this.” She spins until we’re facing Valentine High Street again.
It’s much busier than when we first ventured out. My dad would be so proud to see how popular it is and what a fantastic job Lando’s doing at running the place, even if he’d rather stick pins in his eyes than attend another village meeting.
Then the familiar ball of guilt bounces in my stomach, and my eyes sting because my dad never got to see Valentine Nook in its current glory and splendor.
I shake my head, hoping to somehow restart my brain before I become too morose. It’s one thing to get on my family’s nerves with it, but another to get on Haven’s.