Chapter 22
He couldn’t put off telling her who he was any longer.
He hadn’t meant to get into marriage tonight.
He’d been playing it chill—or as chill as he could when it came to Cora.
Each day he was more drawn to her. He examined her knot on the Yearweave every single day, looking for minute changes to justify his feelings.
He had no hard evidence, but his gut told him he was right, she was the one, and it was time.
Glancing around her bedroom he realized how comfortable he’d gotten living in her world.
His wood carving tools were in a leather bag on the table she had nestled between two armchairs.
In the evenings when they came here, she’d read while he whittled.
He’d made her a small figurine of the Christmas tree from the festival.
When he’d given it to her last night, she’d touched it with soft fingers, her eyes glistening with tears as she’d thanked him.
Cora was so special—the kind of person that had the power to really change the world.
Her influence wasn’t based on money the way he’d suspected in the beginning but instead on instinct.
He wasn’t sure why the Naughty List hadn’t picked up on the changes.
Her name was lighter in the book but it was still there at the bottom of the list. Her event was only successful because she cared for people.
She claimed it was her toys and drinks that people loved, but the truth was she gave everyone something special to reach for.
“I’m asking you to believe in me,” he stated. That was it. The truth, and all he could really do.
It saddened him that she’d never believed in Santa, but he understood.
Santa hadn’t been there for her. He’d gone back through the gift logs and found that she’d been sent a present when she was ten—the present attributed to her stepmother which she had never opened.
He wasn’t sure how it had happened, but there simply wasn’t time to check on every child to whom he delivered a present.
But the truth was, she hadn’t changed so much as awakened. The woman he saw standing before him was still Cora, just less lonely and more open to the seasonal magic she’d once sneered at.
“Believe in you? Do you believe in me?” she asked.
“I do,” he said, coming closer to her. This wasn’t the right place to tell her about all the details of his world. If they were at his place, it would be easier. He could show her around the castle, take her to the workshops and the barn; introduce her to his world in a real and concrete way.
“What do you believe?” she asked.
Nick had one chance to get it right, to say the right words to convince Cora that he wasn’t toying with her. She’d pulled on that mantle of dignity and cold reserve that he now knew came from fear that she would be left, abandoned, forgotten.
“That you are a woman who sees her commitments through, who isn’t afraid to try new things, who fights to achieve her goals. A woman who makes me laugh and makes baking gingerbread cookies sexy.”
“That seems very specific to you,” she said.
“As it should be. We each have different needs,” he admitted.
“What is it that you need to tell me?”
Nick rubbed the back of his neck. “I need a partner to spend eternity with, and I want that person to be you.”
“That’s a bit dramatic,” Cora said. “I assume you mean eternity in a metaphorical sense? I’m hesitating to even let myself think of you beyond Christmas because life hasn’t given me a lot of people who stick around. I take responsibility for not being as open as I could be but…”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he reassured her.
“You say that, but no one can promise forever. People die,” she said bluntly. “You might get tired of me and my lack of Christmas decor.”
“But you have a tree now,” he said. “I like seeing the woman you are becoming. Not that you’ve changed exactly, it’s more that you’re comfortable in your own skin.”
“Geez, thanks.”
“I meant that in a good way.”
“I know you did,” she said. “I like it.”
“Me too. I know that life doesn’t come with guarantees, but I want to plan for an eternity together. In the meantime, maybe you can at least plan for, you know, spring?”
“I want to say yes.” There was a smile teasing the corners of her mouth that let him know she liked his offer but that wasn’t going to appease the council. They needed a Mrs. Claus by December 24th.
“But you need time.”
“I do,” she admitted.
He could work with that. He still had nine days. It could happen.
After that night, she seemed to see less and less of Nick.
He’d dropped his big I-want-to-marry-you bomb and then gotten so busy they barely had time to talk.
In a way it was a relief. She’d been afraid he’d pressure her to give him an answer.
He always made sure to see her at some point during the day.
They’d scheduled the wassailing for Saturday.
She wasn’t entirely sure he’d make it but locals had really turned out.
Cora had the merchandise department make some flyers with the lyrics on them which they handed out to everyone who showed up.
Nick came up behind her just when she’d given up on him. He’d worn his long red leather coat and his Santa hat, and his beard was dotted with flakes of falling snow.
“Everything okay at the office? Is the demand of the WonderHaus production line putting a strain on you?” she asked.
“Don’t panic. The WonderHaus is in hand and all orders will arrive on time. We’re a worldwide organization and I’ve spent a lot of time focused here at the Winter Wonderland, that’s all,” he said. “You look very festive.”
She twirled around so he could admire her outfit. She wore a pair of jeans down the side of which she’d stenciled holly and ivy, paired with her red wool coat that kept her warm against the chilly evening.
“Our entertainment crew is going to lead the songs. Do you want to grab a hot drink first?”
“It has to be mulled cider,” he said.
“Of course. Go to the middle of the longest table. We set up a Wassail bowl. You’ll be able to get some from there.” She wanted to go with Nick to grab them but Fliss came over with her tablet. “I need five minutes.”
“I’ll get the drinks,” Nick said as he left.
“What’s up?”
“The lights aren’t working in the middle half of the orchard. Maintenance is out there now. They believe some moisture got into the battery packs. They’ll need to replace those strands.”
“That’s where we set up the oldest tree, right? We’ll have to see if we can add those decorations to another tree.” Maintenance wouldn’t have a quick and easy job. “Let’s see if we can reroute the path and avoid that area. Maybe just a quick circle up in the front. Show me where the outage is.”
Fliss brought the path up on her tablet and Cora used her finger to redraw the line. “That should work. Tell maintenance thank you for alerting us and let them know we’re changing the route. I’ll go and inform Pamela.”
Cora chatted with the head of the entertainment crew about the changes. They were dressed as medieval bards and looked the part. Nick came up next to her, handing her a mug.
“Problem solved,” she informed him.
“I’m not surprised. Nothing throws you off for long,” he said.
Except him mentioning marriage. That warmth that she only got when he was around flooded her. Damn, she was turning into a lovesick fool when he was around. That word danced in her mind again. Love.
She was afraid to admit to herself that her feelings ran that deep, but admitting it wouldn’t change the fact that that’s what it was. He’d shown her a different kind of December. A different world. Shown her that she was already part of it if she would only let it in.
And she had.
She didn’t regret it. True, she was busier than she’d ever been in December but somehow she wasn’t as exhausted as she usually was. Though she’d never admit it to him, she was pretty sure what she felt this year was joy—not her usual fare at all.
“I try.”
The entertainers started telling the history of wassailing, leading the crowds of people wrapped in coats and scarfs in song. While it was more traditional to go from door-to-door singing and collecting coins or gifts, Cora hadn’t been able to secure permission from the town council.
The entertainers at the front explained what they were doing instead.
“Tonight we will be singing and honoring the trees in the orchard behind us. Many of you will have come apple-picking here in the fall. You’ve known these trees since you were children, coming out here on field trips and for fall festivals.
Tonight we thank these trees by singing and by pouring out some special cider on their roots.
“Winter Wonderland has a small token for each of you to collect at the end. The important thing to remember is to have fun and enjoy yourself. We hope that wassailing will become part of your family’s holiday tradition.”
Nick took her hand in his, that strong baritone of his ringing out as the crowd in front of them started moving. Cora sang along, not hesitant this time but instead trusting that her average voice would be fine in the crowd. Nick winked at her as they got to the first tree.
There was a staffer waiting to direct them where to pour the liquid on the roots. Cora had spoken to Mr. Reams who owned the orchard and he’d provided liquid fertilizer for the special cider for everyone to pour on the trees.
Cora found herself laughing when she sang the wrong words as Nick did the same.
In this moment, for the first time in her life, she felt entirely comfortable in her own skin and in her body.
This was the woman she was meant to be. Not squirreled away in an office, watching the festival from afar.
Down here in the center of it. With Nick by her side.
“I love this.” But what she meant was I love you.
I love Nick Bari.