Chapter 14
TRIPP
Tripp arrived right on time Friday night, feeling confident that he’d planned a perfect night for Jillian.
He’d worked on the farm for as many hours as he could squeeze in, and at twice his usual pace. He was feeling bad for all the afternoons and evenings he’d been spending at the Johnson place, no matter how much his own family encouraged it.
They all seemed almost hopeful about the time he was spending with Jillian. It was touching, but it also felt like pressure—like he didn’t want to let them down.
Tripp showered right before heading over, trying not to think about it too much. He put on a crisp new pair of jeans and a white button-down, and splashed on a little aftershave. His hair was still damp as he hopped out of his truck at the Johnsons’ house.
Jogging up the front porch steps, he thought about how grateful he was that he’d been allowed to repair them. By next Christmas, the whole house would be good as new, if he had anything to say about it.
He knocked on the door and tried to pull himself together while he waited. But his teenage self, kept whispering in his mind.
It’s happening. It’s really happening…
He’d hoped for a moment like this one for so long, it almost didn’t seem real.
“Hey,” Jillian said, pulling open the door.
For a second, he was speechless.
Her long golden hair was loose around her shoulders and she wore a pale pink dress that clung slightly to her curves. She was smiling up at him so happily that it made his heart pound.
“You look beautiful,” he told her, his voice a little rough.
“Thank you,” she said, her cheeks going pinker than her dress.
“Are you ready?” he asked. “Or should I come in and let your grandfather give me a warning about getting you home on time?”
“I think he approves,” Jillian said, laughing. “You’re probably good.”
“Nah, he just knows I’m a farmer,” Tripp teased. “So I don’t stay out late.”
Jillian smiled as she pulled on her coat and slipped outside, closing the door behind her.
He caught a tiny whiff of peppermint, and wondered again if it was perfume or shampoo. In any case, it made his mouth water.
But he was determined to be the gentleman she deserved, so instead of taking her in his arms and kissing her like he wanted to, he offered her his hand.
“Shall we,” he asked.
“Thank you,” she said, taking it.
A sizzle of awareness shot up his arm at the feel of her soft hand in his.
He walked her slowly down the porch steps to his truck. He normally kept it pretty neat, but he’d given it a good cleaning today, just to be sure.
When they reached it, he opened her door and helped her up.
She’s in my truck, his inner teenager whispered.
Tripp smiled and got in on his side, turning the key to start the engine once they both had their seatbelts on.
The radio came on—Paul McCartney singing about having a wonderful Christmastime.
“Gram loves this one,” Jillian said fondly.
“Oh yeah?” Tripp asked, smiling at the idea. “What about you? Do you have a favorite?”
“I love them all,” Jillian admitted. “But I guess my favorite would be ‘The First Noel’ or ‘Silent Night.’”
They had reached the covered bridge, so he rolled down his window and gave a little honk.
When he was convinced that no one was coming, he headed into the thunderous darkness.
“So you like the classic Christmas songs, huh?” he asked when they emerged on the other side.
“Those are the ones you sing along to,” she said.
“You mean at church?” he asked.
She nodded.
“So… you don’t sing along to the radio?” he asked.
“No,” she said, smiling like he was being silly. “Of course not.”
“Not even if you love the song?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“What if you’re alone in the car?” he asked. “And your very favorite song comes on, a real bop?”
“I guess I know what you do,” Jillian said, laughing.
“Of course I do,” he told her. “I’ll bet most people do.”
“I don’t know about that,” Jillian said, shaking her head.
On the radio, Paul McCartney melted into the opening notes of Dean Martin’s “Let it Snow.”
“Now that’s a good one,” Tripp said, trying not to smile. “Kind of song a man might be tempted to sing along with.”
“Oh really?” Jillian asked.
He glanced over and saw that her smile was filled with anticipation.
He’d been trying so hard to get her to take him seriously. But maybe sometimes she needed to let her hair down a little, too. Maybe they could meet someplace in the middle.
Throwing caution to the wind, Tripp crooned along with the King of Cool, tossing his head back for emphasis and letting go of the wheel with one hand to snap to the beat.
Beside him, Jillian giggled.
“Come on, girl,” Tripp said, gesturing to her. “Sing.”
She didn’t join him on the first verse, or even the second. But Tripp didn’t let it impact him one bit. He sang it out loud enough for the both of them.
Just as Tripp decided this was going to remain a solo performance, he was surprised and delighted to hear a clear, bright soprano join him.
Jillian’s eyes sparkled as she sang out the lyrics, low at first, but then a little louder as she got comfortable.
Too soon, the song ended, and so did the magical moment.
“You’re a good singer,” he told her honestly. “I’ll bet the girls love to hear you sing at church.”
“It’s kind of fun to sing in the car,” she admitted, her eyes wide, like she was sort of amazed at herself for doing it.
“Sure is,” he told her.
“Where are we going tonight?” she asked.
“Do you like Italian food?” he asked her.
“Of course,” she said.
“There’s a new place,” he said. “Well, new to you anyway. It’s been here for a few years. I made reservations for us.”
He glanced over, hoping she didn’t think he was trying too hard.
But she had the most beautiful smile on her face, like she wasn’t used to anyone making an effort for her.
The idea filled his chest with fury. But he eased his thoughts down, forcing himself to keep a calm eye on the road.
“How did Mari’s spelling test go?” he asked, choosing a subject he knew wouldn’t make anyone angry.
That launched Jillian into a happy rundown of all the news from the girls. Both had come home from school filled with excitement over a good week at school and an evening with their great-grandparents to look forward to.
“They’re such awesome kids,” Tripp said. “You’re really lucky.”
“I know,” Jillian said, shaking her head. “They’ve been so resilient. They were even happy for me to go on a date with you tonight.”
“I’m sure that’s because they know your grandparents will spoil them rotten,” Tripp said lightly, even though his heart was surging with happiness.
“They really like you,” Jillian said. “But I think you already knew that.”
“Well, I really like them,” Tripp said.
They drove on in silence for a few more minutes, until at last he pulled onto the bumpy little lane that would take them to Mia’s.
It wasn’t really new to the town anymore, but Tripp had never actually been to the restaurant before.
It was way too fancy for someone who liked to eat a sandwich over the sink while he was still in his work clothes.
But when Jillian agreed to a date, he’d wanted to be sure he knocked it out of the park.
Plus, no one would know him here, so no one would treat him like he was still the rambunctious kid everyone in town thought of him as. If he wanted to convince Jillian that he could be serious, it was better for them to be on neutral ground.
“Oh wow,” Jillian breathed, looking out the window at the glowing lanterns that lined the small road leading between the snowy pines.
“The owner was a big-time chef in New York,” Tripp explained. “So this place is kind of special. She sources a lot locally, even gets all her dairy supplies from our farm.”
He felt a little silly for boasting about it. But generations of Lawrences really had worked to keep the cows happy and the land producing nourishing grass, and he was proud of his honest labor.
“Tripp, what an honor,” Jillian said. “That speaks volumes about what you and your family do.”
“We love it,” he said simply.
“It’s good to do what you love,” she said, a smile on her lips that told him he wasn’t the only one who loved his work.
“Here we go,” Tripp said, pulling over. “Right on time.”
“Um, where is it?” Jillian asked.
“We go by horse-drawn sleigh from here,” he told her.
“No,” she said, her face softening.
“Hang on,” he told her, hopping out of the truck.
By the time he opened her door and helped her down into the snowy meadow, the sound of sleigh bells was in the air.
“Oh, Tripp,” Jillian said.
He turned and watched the sleigh approach. The horses were a picture of health, their coats glossy, thick manes lifting in the wind.
“Hi there,” the driver said with a wave. “I’m Samuel.”
Once Tripp had helped Jillian into the sleigh and then seated himself beside her, Samuel lowered a warm blanket over their laps.
“Enjoy the ride,” the driver said, clucking to the horses.
Jillian let out a sweet little giggle as the sleigh jerked forward and Trip couldn’t help grabbing her hand and squeezing gently.
A path just wide enough for the sleigh opened up as they left the meadow behind, moving through the snowy trees to the sound of the bells.
Too soon, Samuel brought the horses to a stop in front of a big log cabin.
“It’s like something out of a storybook,” Jillian murmured.
She wasn’t wrong. Warm light glowed from the windows and a swirl of smoke rose from the chimney.
“Welcome to Mia’s,” Samuel said with a smile.
Tripp hopped out, and then helped Jillian down.
“Shall we?” he asked, gesturing to the cabin.
They headed up the narrow path, hand in hand.
Tripp had never done deliveries here, Mia had her own system, and with the winding way to approach the place, he understood why. But he was happy that he hadn’t seen it before. It was fun to experience it for the first time with Jillian.
Her wonder at it all tugged at his heart, and he thought again that it was a shame that with all the caring she did for other people, it didn’t seem like anyone had been trying to make life magical for her.
Mia’s right-hand man, Remi, ushered them in. As he talked to Jillian about the construction of the cabin, with its surprisingly high ceilings and big, roaring fireplace, Tripp took in the space on his own terms.
He knew instantly from the quality of the construction and the service that this was what his brother would call fine dining. But West was a doctor, and he was a little more used to this kind of thing.
As nice as it was, the place also seemed comfortable.
Maybe it was the red checkered tablecloths or the framed black-and-white photos of simple Italian scenes that could have been from any time in history.
But he didn’t have that I don’t belong here feeling that he sometimes got when he went to fancy shops in Burlington.
Before long, they had ordered and they were sipping drinks and sampling the basket of homemade garlic bread that had been dropped at their table.
“Can you believe we’re the only ones here?” Jillian whispered across the candlelit table.
“It pays to eat early,” Tripp told her.
“All school nurses should date farmers,” Jillian said.
Tripp laughed and took another thick slab of garlic bread.
“You don’t like it?” he asked, indicating her half-eaten slice.
“Oh, if I finish that I won’t be able to eat my dinner,” she said. “I don’t want to fill up on bread, even though it might be the best bread I’ve ever eaten.”
“What an idea,” Tripp said, shaking his head.
“You’re a big eater,” Jillian said, nodding.
“Always have been,” he said. “I think it’s all the time outside—works up my appetite.”
She nodded and he couldn’t help noticing how her eyes slid over his arms and chest before she caught herself and looked studiously down at the table.
It shouldn’t have mattered that she had noticed that he was big and strong—that was pretty much his best quality when it came to getting a woman’s attention, and he was used to it.
But with Jillian—well, even back in high school she had never treated him like eye candy, or even like he was a path to popularity.
Their bonding had all happened as they whispered in each other’s ears through a headset.
So he had no doubts that she liked him for who he was, not what he looked like.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked.
“Talking to you on the headset,” he told her. “Those were good times.”
Her eyes widened slightly, like she hadn’t been expecting that answer, but she smiled.
“You always had the best stories,” she said, for once not breaking his gaze.
“You were always the best listener,” he told her honestly. “I’ve missed you.”
“Me too,” she said. “I like our texts.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “But it’s not the same as hearing you whisper in my ear.”
Her cheeks blushed a deep pink and she smiled as she took a sip from her glass of ice water.
Too soon, Remi was sweeping back to them with a tray of food that smelled so good it made Tripp’s belly rumble.
The two of them spooned servings on their plates, and ate and laughed their way into the beginning of a beautiful evening.
Later, when the plates had been taken away and Remi had come back with coffee and a decadent slice of cake for them to share, Tripp found himself wishing the evening didn’t have to end.
“This was magical,” Jillian said.
“I’m so glad you came,” Tripp told her.
“I’ve never been to such a fancy place,” she said, her eyes shining.
“I wanted to show you I can be a serious man,” he heard himself admit.
“What do you mean?” she asked, without a hint of judgement in her voice.
“It’s a funny thing living in the place where you grew up,” Tripp explained.
“Most people around town look at me and still see the reckless young kid I once was. For heaven’s sake, my whole family still yells whenever the front door opens because I used to come in with muddy boots.
I guess that’s why all the flatlanders moving in doesn’t really bother me.
When I interact with one of them, I get to do it as the man I am now, not as the kid who put a cow in the principal’s office. ”
She smiled a little at that, but there was a thoughtful look in her eyes.
“I need you to know that I’m serious, Jillian,” he went on. “Serious about the farm and my role in this community, and even more serious about being there for you and your girls. I’m willing to take it slow, but I need you to know that I’m all-in.”
“Thank you,” she said with a smile so sweet and filled with wonder that he knew she actually understood what he was trying to say. “That means a lot to me, Tripp, to all of us.”
And with Jillian looking at him like that, Tripp suddenly found that he didn’t care all that much anymore about how the rest of the town saw him.