December 21, 1890
Light shone through the blue curtains of Dawson’s room and streaked across his face and bed. Early morning was his favorite time of day and he often rose with the sun. Squinting, he sat up, stretched his arms above his head, and yawned like a mountain lion after a good sleep. A second later, he grimaced and glanced at the door, hoping he hadn’t woken the house with his growl. He was used to waking alone, with just his dog, Tuck, and his cat, Sir John, to witness his morning growl. They would greet him likewise, and the three bachelors would set about their day.
Dawson missed his furry comrades, and hoped that his niece, Mary, was taking good care of them in his absence.
Leaning to one side, and then the other, he stretched out his tight back muscles. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he pushed to his feet. He grabbed his satchel and headed to the bathroom just one door down from his own. Gads, it felt so good to feel steady on his feet again! He pursed his lips to whistle a happy tune, but caught himself and quelled the urge before he woke the house. This is what it would be like living with Nancy. He would have to curb his noisy morning rituals. But, then again, he would be sharing her bed and she would most likely be awake, and maybe she would appreciate his vocal tribute to the day.
The thought of waking up beside Nancy made him determined to break through her resistance. Their friendship was unquestionable. Their attraction was undeniable. Why was she resisting what they both wanted? He could see her need for him in her eyes. It was right there in her expression each time she looked at him. And yet, there was something inside Nancy Grayson’s heart that was stopping her from welcoming a love she richly deserved.
His reflection in the bathroom mirror assured Dawson that his features weren’t off-putting. His ears were even and didn’t stick out. He had a manly nose that fit his face, but wasn’t crooked or hawkish. In his opinion, his features were common. He had a squared chin in need of a shave, evenly spaced eyes with moderately heavy eyebrows, straight brown hair graying at the temples. The sparkle in Nancy’s eyes suggested she liked what she saw when she looked at him. She’d even told him once that he was an incredibly handsome man and that he was tempting her unfairly each time he gazed into her eyes.
The memory of that day made Dawson smile. They had rowed up Crane River and picnicked on the grassy riverbank with Adam and Rebecca. Dawson and Nancy had spent much of the day alone while Adam and Rebecca fished upriver and tried to find their way back to each other. Dawson and Nancy had walked the shore and lazed on a blanket, talking and laughing and falling in love. She might not be ready to admit it yet, but he knew what he’d seen in her eyes that day… and during their many moments together at Crane Landing, and even here in Fredonia when he’d attended Adam and Rebecca’s wedding.
So why was Nancy resisting his marriage proposal? It wasn’t as if she’d just lost her husband. She’d been widowed twenty-four years ago. It didn’t make sense to deny what was right in front of her eyes—that Dawson loved her.
Initially, he hadn’t known what to make of his feelings for Nancy. They were so bright that he could only view them with his eyes squinted. It had taken him some time away from her, three months of living alone and missing her every moment of every day, for him to realize that he had fallen in love with Nancy Grayson—and that he wanted to spend the rest of his days with her at his side.
And so eight weeks ago he’d come back to Fredonia with Leo Sullivan, who was following a lead on his missing siblings. During that short two-day trip Dawson had asked Nancy to marry him.
His proposal had stunned her.
She’d asked for time to think about it.
Now he was back for the Christmas holiday—and he needed an answer.
Neither of them could move on with their lives while that question dangled between them. She needed to decide the direction of her life before he left this time. Before that moment arrived, he was going to do everything possible to help her find her way to a resolution she could live with. He wasn’t trying to take her away from her life. He wanted to become part of her life. But how could he make her understand that they could share their lives and enjoy both worlds, his cottage in Crane Landing and her cozy home in Fredonia? More importantly, he needed to make her realize that they could expand their lives with travel and adventure, that they still had many wonderful, enjoyable years ahead of them.
But she had never let go of her first husband, and Dawson wasn’t sure she could.
Deep in thought, he washed his face and scraped a razor over the rough stubble of a day-old beard. He ran a warm washcloth around his neck and under his arms. With a couple of strokes of his wet hands over his unruly hair, he headed back to the bedroom and pulled on his trousers and a clean shirt.
He tugged on a pair of slippers he’d found under the edge of the bed, and then hustled to the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee.
After years of taking care of himself, he easily lit the stove and started the coffee brewing. He took a large bowl from the cupboard, and then surveyed the pantry. Pleased to find ingredients for making pancakes, he gathered the items and set them on the table. A small basket of eggs sat on the counter, and he cracked four of them into the mixing bowl. As he added flour, he heard a sound behind him and turned to see Nancy entering the kitchen.
“Oh, good gracious!” She clapped her palm over her chest and sagged against the door frame. “What are you doing in here?”
Grinning at her obvious surprise, he glanced at the mixing bowl, and then back at her. “I’m making breakfast.”
Her breath sailed out and she stared at the bowl as if not yet fully understanding what he was doing.
Her normally coiffed hair was wispy and askew, her loose braid pulled forward across her shoulder. Her housecoat hung awry, as if she had pulled it on quickly and hadn’t adjusted it properly before rushing down the hall. Dawson couldn’t wrench his gaze away from the magnificent woman standing in front of him. She had never looked more beautiful than she did now. So this is how she looked upon waking. He smiled at her, mesmerized, and in love.
“I… I intended to start the coffee and hurry back to my room before anyone got up.” She clutched her housecoat in front of her. “I apologize, Dawson. I’m being entirely inappropriate. Leave that, and I’ll finish breakfast as soon as I dress.” She turned to leave the kitchen.
Dawson reached out and caught her elbow. “The coffee is nearly finished brewing, and no one can top my pancakes, Nancy, so let me finish making them.” He turned her to face him. “Sit with me a minute before Adam and Rebecca get up.”
“It’s hardly proper for the two of us to be visiting in our nightclothes.”
He winked. “I know. That’s what makes it fun.”
She gasped and laughed at the same time, and he knew he’d succeeded in convincing her to stay.
“Come on. The coffee is ready.” He grabbed one of the cups he’d taken out of the cupboard. He filled the cup and pressed the steaming mug into her hands. “Just one quick cup of coffee before we’re surrounded by family,” he said.
She met his eyes. “Don’t you dare tell anyone about this.”
“It’ll be our secret, darling.”
Her lashes dipped, concealing her eyes, but Dawson saw the flush on her cheeks and the smile on her lips. Nancy conducted herself with grace and propriety in public, but he knew her secret—she had an adventurous spirit that liked to ride the wind and dance in the rain. That youthful, girlish side of her would remain to her last breath—and that is precisely what had made him fall in love with her.
She raised the cup to her nose and inhaled the robust aroma before taking her first sip. Afterward, she sighed as if she’d waited all night for this first taste of coffee. Dawson knew that intense craving well and eagerly anticipated his first swallow of coffee, too, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Nancy.
She cupped the porcelain mug in both hands and took another sip, then released a long sigh of contentment. “It’s been years since anyone has made my morning coffee,” she said, her voice so dreamy it melted him.
“I’ll make your coffee every morning,” he said quietly.
Instead of shuttering her feelings behind her dark lashes, she angled her head and studied him. “I’d like that.”
Hope grew in his chest like a wave that swells and builds as it heads ashore. “Is that a yes, then?”
Her lashes swooped down to conceal her eyes. “I simply meant that I would enjoy having coffee with you each morning.”
The wave of hope crashed and dissipated as it hit the rocky shore of reality. “Then you’re saying, no?”
She sighed and shook her head as if utterly frustrated with him. “It’s exactly what I said, Dawson. I’m enjoying this moment with you. Can we please put your proposal aside for now and simply enjoy our holiday together?”
Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and he knew he’d upset her with his insistence. “Of course. I just thought you’d have had enough time to decide by now.”
“You would think, but it seems the more I consider it the more confused I become.” She set her cup on the far end of the table and tightened the belt of her housecoat, accentuating her slim waist and womanly figure. “I need to dress before the kids get up.”
He longed to pull her into his arms and tell her he’d dreamt of her last night as he’d done so many times since meeting her. He’d dreamt of mornings like this and of afternoon walks and candlelight talks. There was so much he wanted to give her, so many places he wanted to take her, and he knew she would love the adventure. But she was like a magnificent horse loyal to her stable. Getting her to venture beyond her comfortable path wasn’t going to be easy. But Dawson wasn’t trying to drive her away from her comfortable home, or split her from her drove, or trap or capture her. He simply wanted to show her that she could stretch her legs and explore more of the world around her.
With a hard sigh, he brought his attention back to the moment and her comment. “I hadn’t meant to push or to make you uncomfortable, Nancy. I’d just like to know how you feel about… things. About me.”
“Oh, Dawson....” She closed the distance between them and slipped her delicate hands into his. “How can you not know how I feel about you?”
With his thumb, he felt the circular gold band of her wedding ring that she continued to wear even after he’d proposed. That’s why he didn’t know. “When we were in Crane Landing, I thought I knew your feelings, Nancy. But once you returned to Fredonia, it felt as if I’d lost part of you. I’m honestly not sure where your feelings lie.”
She cupped his cheek and looked into his eyes. “I consider you my dearest friend, Dawson. I care very deeply for you. That’s how I feel.”
But she didn’t say she loved him. Or that she wanted to marry him.
Nor did she say she didn’t love him.
“Dawson, I’m going to get dressed and come back in a few minutes to help you with breakfast.” She stepped away from him and their intimate discussion. At the doorway, she turned back, a soft smile on her face. “I must confess that I was shocked to find you in the kitchen making pancakes. I hadn’t thought about you cooking for yourself.”
“Did you think I maintained this manly figure by skipping meals?” Dawson asked, deciding to lighten their conversation. Pressuring her for an answer was creating distance between them. “I assure you, Nancy, I’m quite adept in the kitchen. When I began living alone, I found I really enjoyed cooking.”
“I guess there is still much to learn about you, Dawson.”
There was indeed. And one thing she would learn before his visit ended, was that she deserved to be loved and cherished by a man who would give her the world.
But she wasn’t ready to hear that yet, and so he said, “I believe I hear Adam and Rebecca stirring. I imagine you’d rather they didn’t catch us conversing in the kitchen in our nightclothes.” Her cheeks flushed and Dawson laughed.
“There is bacon in the icebox. I’ll make the eggs when I come back,” Nancy said, and then she ducked out of the kitchen.
Dawson had pancakes browning and bacon sizzling in a hot skillet when Adam and Rebecca entered the kitchen, sniffing the aroma coming from the frying pan. When they saw Dawson standing at the stove with a spatula in hand, they both stopped in surprise.
“Are you cooking breakfast?” Rebecca asked.
Dawson nodded. “As I do every morning.”
“Well, it smells delicious,” Adam said, pulling out a chair at the table for Rebecca. She hesitated and asked if she might help, but Dawson told her everything was set.
With a sigh, Rebecca sat at the table. “Gracious, I’m tired this morning. You’d have thought I didn’t sleep a wink last night.”
Adam poured coffee for himself and Rebecca and warmed Dawson’s coffee. “I believe you slept quite soundly, darling. I woke several times thinking I was at the sawmill, but it was just you snoring beside me.”
“I do not snore, Adam!” Rebecca laughed and gave him a good nudge in his side.
Dawson smiled at the loving banter between husband and wife. They shared a comfortable togetherness that he hadn’t experienced in his life, not until meeting Nancy. After years of living a solitary life, he’d thought that marriage wasn’t in the cards for him. But then he met Nancy, with her youthful spirit and slightly irreverent sense of humor, and his whole life changed. Perhaps Nancy just needed to be reminded what it felt like to be in love, to play and flirt and make every moment of the day special because you were sharing it with each other.
With resolve, Dawson turned back to the stove, vowing to show Nancy exactly what they stood to lose if she said no.
As he finished turning the last of the pancakes on the griddle, Nancy entered the kitchen with her hair properly pinned and her eyes sparkling. “Good morning, everyone. I hope you all slept well,” she said, taking an apron off a hook and tying it around the waist of a smartly tailored, chestnut brown dress.
Dawson grinned. She was coiffed and lightly perfumed and ready for Sunday service. His shirt was still untucked and he was in his slippers.
“We slept soundly, grandmother. But imagine our surprised to find Dawson making breakfast this morning? Did you oversleep?” Rebecca asked.
“I um… I suppose, I did,” Nancy said, casting a furtive glance at Dawson.
He grinned, knowing she didn’t want her grandchildren aware of their early morning meeting in their nightclothes. The urge to tease her a little was tempting, but he behaved himself and placed a heaping stack of pancakes on a small platter. He set it on the table beside a plate of crispy bacon, then helped Nancy dish the eggs onto four plates.
After seating Nancy, Dawson sat in the chair at her left at the head of the table. He turned and reached back to the sideboard to retrieve the pitcher of maple syrup he’d forgotten. “I think that’s everything. Let’s eat while it’s hot,” he said.
Adam eyed the towering stack of pancakes, and laughed. “You’ve made enough to feed the entire shipyard.”
“Well, I intend to eat half those cakes,” Dawson said, playfully defending his decision to make such a large batch.
“I’m hungry enough to eat the other half,” Rebecca added, pouring syrup over the two pancakes she’d placed on her plate.
Adam stabbed a forkful of bacon and put it on his plate, then followed with three brown cakes, topping them with a pond of syrup. He shoveled in a mouthful of pancakes, and his eyebrows lifted. “Mmm… I think these are the best pancakes I’ve eaten.”
“What?” Nancy playfully whacked his knuckles with her fork. “I thought I made the best cakes. And I taught you not to talk with your mouth full, didn’t I?”
Adam grimaced, and they all laughed at her play. “Sorry, Grandma.”
Her pretty brown eyes shifted toward Dawson. “I have to agree with Adam,” she said. “These are delicious.”
Dawson smiled and watched her dab a drop of syrup from her lip.
“I picked up a few useful skills living alone all these years,” he said. He grasped his cup and leaned back in his chair, watching everyone enjoying the breakfast he’d prepared. They shared easy conversation about their upcoming day. After living so many years alone, he enjoyed being part of a family. Adam and Rebecca weren’t just Nancy’s grandchildren, they were his friends and his family in Crane Landing. And Nancy… she was so much more than a friend. So much more.
The soft glow of lantern light fell across the snowy path through the orchard that Nancy walked with Dawson. After Sunday service, they had spent the day at Radford and Evelyn’s house. By the time supper was over, Nancy was tired and happy to be heading home. “Would I be a terrible mother and grandmother if I said I’m eager to sit in my quiet parlor beside a warm fire?” she asked.
Dawson grinned down at her. “Well, if it does make you a terrible person, I won’t tell anyone because I’ve been anticipating the same thing for the past hour. In fifty-six years of living, I don’t think I’ve listened to so many conversations happening simultaneously. And I think my pants leg is damp from Emma’s diaper.”
Nancy laughed and hugged Dawson’s arm to her side. “Wait until all my children and grandchildren gather in one place, Dawson. Your ears will ring for days.”
He laughed. “I loved every minute of this day, Nancy. I want you to know that. Just being with you, and getting to know the kids, is… it’s something I deeply appreciate.”
His sincerity touched her, and it made her decision that much harder.
She shivered from the cold and a decision she didn’t want to make. The clear sky overhead was a welcome respite after the blowing snow the previous day. But no clouds meant bitter cold, and she felt the chill in her bones deepen with each step she took. The crisp air made her throat burn, and she labored through the deep snow. As she picked her way along the path, she tried to step in the footsteps already left in the snow, noting that some of those prints were from Dawson—and not one of them was from Hal.
Dawson’s nearness made her feel less alone, but she felt a sudden upwelling of melancholy. Dawson’s strong and steady arm beneath her hand assured her that she could count on him. He was a man of his word, a man of wealth and great intellect, a man who would make her final days a grand adventure, if she let him.
But could she let him?
She’d spent much of Sunday service turning that question over in her mind. Dawson had sat beside her during the service, his leg pressed against hers on the crowded pew. Their shoulders touched and his arm brushed against hers each time he shifted on the wooden bench. He’d held he hymnal for them to share. The rich sound of his baritone fell nicely on her ears as his voice rang out strong during each hymn. She’d heard happiness in his voice as he sang, and she hoped she wouldn’t be the one to squelch that feeling, but she was no closer to an answer than she had been the day he proposed.
Having dinner at Radford’s house had helped divert her thoughts from constantly rehashing the question.
The lively meal, with all seven of Radford and Evelyn’s children, plus Adam, Dawson, and herself, had provided no opportunity for her thoughts to drift to Dawson’s proposal. But sitting beside him during a family supper did make her think back to dinners with Hal and their four high-spirited boys, who could barely contain their energy long enough to sit for a meal. Her grandchildren had been just as energetic and eager to get back to their play. Eight-year-old Tyler had shoved a few quick bites into his mouth, and then tried to escape from the table, only to be returned by Evelyn, again and again. Radford and Boyd had been exactly the same at that age. The memory made Nancy smile. While finishing her coffee and dessert after supper, little Emma had climbed onto her lap for a snuggle with her grandma. Nancy thought of her own boys at that age. Hal had been alive and healthy then. It seemed she’d just blinked her eyes and Hal was gone and her children were grown. In that moment of realization, Nancy had clutched her one-year-old granddaughter to her breast, knowing these times would be gone too soon and her grandchildren would be grown in a blink. And she would be even more alone.
Throughout the entire meal, Dawson had sat beside her playing with the kids and laughing with Radford and Adam as they told stories about working together at the mill. Dawson had even grabbed Tyler during one of his attempted escapes and plopped him on his own knee for a moment, tickling Tyler into laughter and giving Evelyn a much-deserved break. He had held Emma when Nancy’s arms grew tired. Dawson was comfortable with her large family, and that made it easy to forget he was stepping into another man’s place.
But now that the noise and chaos of dinner was over, being with Dawson didn’t feel quite as easy or comfortable. To find herself walking beside him, under the sprawling snow-covered branches of the apple trees that she’d shared with Hal, felt like a betrayal. Her heart ached and she shivered from cold and exhaustion.
Dawson wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “Maybe we should have let Radford drive us home. You’re shivering.”
“I’m trembling with fatigue,” she said, releasing a small laugh to assure him she was fine. She stepped to the outside of the path to put some distance between them. The truth was, Dawson and her warring thoughts had her completely flustered. She glanced back at Radford and Evelyn’s house, hoping no one was watching from the window. As much as she enjoyed feeling Dawson’s arm around her, she just wasn’t ready to share her feelings with others. And that was part of the problem. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever be ready. It had been so much easier at Crane Landing with only Adam and Rebecca around to witness her friendship with Dawson. His friendship extended to all of them, so Nancy felt comfortable visiting with Dawson. And Adam and Rebecca were too consumed with their own romance to notice her own with Dawson. The thought of having to explain their relationship to anyone left her deeply conflicted.
As they continued their slow walk through the orchard, Dawson placed his hand on her elbow when the churned up snow made the path difficult. But their walk wasn’t a comfortable companionship anymore. It was awkward. And that was her fault. Her inability to decide what she wanted to do was affecting her relationship with Dawson.
“Nancy, stop a moment.” To her surprise, he turned her to face him. “I can sense your turmoil over my proposal. I’m not going to push you into a decision you don’t want. This is something you must decide for yourself. All I ask is that you give me an answer before I head back home.”
“Oh, Dawson… I’m sorry. When you wrote that you would be coming to spend the holiday with me, I was thrilled. I was actually giddy when I saw you crossing the orchard yesterday. But an instant later, memories of Hal rushed in like an avalanche and they buried my heart.” She bit her lip, horrified to find herself on the brink of tears. “Hal and I used to walk through this orchard… at night, during the day, in every season, with every child. In the fall when the apples ripened, Hal would reach up and pick one of the apples high up on the tree. He would shine it on his shirt and tell our boys the fruit would be sweeter with the extra attention from the sun.” Nancy glanced from the gnarled branches to the sky where a few stars were beginning to shine. “We lived so much of our lives out here in this orchard. We talked about what we’d name our children. Radford is named after his brother, John Radford, who died just before I came to Fredonia. We talked about the mill and Hal’s challenges to keep it afloat. It was so hard for him for so many years, going it alone after his brother died. But we had a good life and four wonderful children, and we spent those days together right here.” Nancy knew she was babbling, but her thoughts and feelings were such a jumble in her head that she couldn’t organize a single thought. All she knew is that Dawson needed to understand why there was no easy answer to his proposal. “It’s just so hard to not think of him because he’s here,” she whispered. “In my children’s faces, in their laughter, in their babies, in this orchard…” She dropped her chin and shook her head, knowing she’d said too much. “I’m sorry…”
Dawson pulled her into his arms and rocked her. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I thought enough time had passed that you could have feelings for someone else.”
“I do have feelings for you,” she said, looking up so he could see the truth in her eyes. “I didn’t expect our friendship to develop into more, but it has. I have all these feelings for you bubbling up inside, and I get excited thinking about being with you, and then in the next instant I’m buried in memories of Hal and our life together and the guilt and heartache… It tears me apart inside.”
Dawson continued to rock her gently as if there were no words.
For a minute, Nancy leaned into his comfort, inhaling the light scent of his cologne, loving the feel of his arms around her—and hating herself for wanting to stay there.
“Dawson, I hadn’t intended to reveal any of this.” She stepped away, but took his gloved hands in her own. “Being with my grandchildren this evening reminded me of how quickly time is passing. I can remember like it was yesterday when Radford came home with Rebecca. She was a shy, withdrawn four-year-old little darling in desperate need of a mother. Radford was patient and loving with her, but it was Evelyn and her love that helped Rebecca and Radford heal. She’s been a wonderful wife to Radford and a loving mother to Rebecca. And look at Rebecca now, a grown woman married to Adam. Her brother William is home from university for the holiday, but he plans to travel to Crane Landing in the new year because he’s considering settling there after he graduates. And now Marshall Thomas, Kyle’s oldest, my goodness, he’s talking about heading to Texas to become a wildcatter and drill for oil.”
Dawson arched an eyebrow. “Is he old enough to be making those decisions?”
“He’s seventeen, but Graysons seem to know what they want early in life. Rebecca and Adam were teens when they met and I think they knew from the beginning that they were destined to be together. I always thought they’d marry and settle here in Fredonia, with Adam working at the mill. But they’re spending this year at Crane Landing, and I suspect they’ll stay there. I’m happy for them, but their absence leaves a hole in my heart. I know there’s a big world outside of Fredonia, but it feels as if it’s getting bigger as my babies move farther away. Life is slipping through my fingers and I can’t hang onto my family. I’m afraid to blink for fear another one of my grandchildren will have grown and left home. Or that I’ll miss seeing them grow.” She bit her lip to stem her emotions.
“I understand, Nancy. I can imagine how difficult it must be for you to watch your grandchildren grow up and start to have lives of their own. But that’s also a beautiful thing.”
“It surely is,” she said, acknowledging the truth. “And that’s why I don’t want to miss a minute of it. I’ve spent most of my life raising children and grandchildren, but I wouldn’t trade one minute of it for all the wealth in the world.”
“It’s times like this that I sometimes regret not having children of my own,” Dawson said. “I’m sure the joy of raising your babies outweighs the heartbreak.”
“For me it does. My heart hasn’t known a quiet moment since I got off the train in Dunkirk forty-six years ago.” Nancy sighed and tucked her hand in the crook of Dawson’s elbow. “Here I am keeping you out here in the cold while I blather on like a foolish old woman. Let’s go home, and I’ll warm some cider for us.”
“All right, but not because you’re blathering, Nancy. I’m glad you remembered our friendship and that we can talk with one another about anything.”
“A blessing for which I’ll be eternally grateful,” she said, smiling up at him. For the remainder of their walk, they enjoyed the companionable silence that had come to them so easily in Crane Landing. There, they had shared many wonderful and deep conversations. It had been so easy talking with Dawson—until he’d plopped a proposal in the middle of their friendship.
Even though she’d just babbled like a ninny and revealed too much, Nancy was grateful that the conversation had resurrected their easy friendship.
She hadn’t considered that Dawson hadn’t had children. But she was certainly thinking about it now. He was wealthy and incredibly handsome, with his dark hair and twinkling blue eyes, and he could easily find a younger woman with whom to marry and have children. But that was a topic of conversation for another day.
Together they climbed the steps and slipped into her warm foyer. They removed their coats and snowy boots. While Dawson added more wood to the fireplace, Nancy rushed to the kitchen to heat cider. The warmth of the kitchen was a welcome contrast to the brisk chill of the orchard. This room, with its hardwood floor and paisley papered walls, was a haven for Nancy. Many times, especially during the worst of Hal’s illness, she had escaped to the kitchen in the middle of the night to sit alone at the scarred oak table, to think, or to cry. But she wasn’t alone now because Dawson had just come into the room, making it smaller with his manly presence.
She had missed having a companion, someone to share her experiences with, someone to share the passing years with. She’d never thought to have companionship and romance again. But Dawson Crane was standing in her kitchen, windblown and handsome, the warmth in his eyes tempting her to embrace all that he offered.
A slow smile tilted his mouth, and he opened his arms, beckoning her.
Drawn to the promise in his eyes, her feet moved of their own will, carrying her toward his light.
The sound of laughter and stomping feet coming from the foyer stopped her in the middle of the kitchen. Her momentary disappointment turned to a resigned smile. “So much for peace and quiet. I believe Adam and Rebecca are home and it sounds as if they brought Leo along with them.”
Dawson’s mouth quirked. “I’m learning that having a large family can be incredibly wonderful… or awkwardly intrusive.”
“That sums it up nicely, I’d say.” Sharing a private laugh, they turned together and went to the parlor to join the others.
Leo had just tugged a knit cap off his head, his long black hair falling like black raven’s wings to his shoulders. Nancy shook her head and said, “When are you going to cut your hair, Mr. Sullivan?”
Leo turned, his dark eyes lit with pleasure as he rushed into the parlor and wrapped her in a hug. “I was in such a hurry to get home to see you, Grandma, that I didn’t have time to get it cut.”
Nancy burst out laughing. “The tales you tell, Leo!” She kissed his manly cheek and took a good look at him. Leo wasn’t her family by blood, but in her heart, he was her grandson as surely as Adam was. “You’re too skinny, young man.”
“I’m fit as a fiddle, Grandma.” He charmed her with a grin that reminded her of youngest son Boyd. “I’m sure your cookies and pies will add a few inches to my waist during the holiday.”
Happiness flowed through her and she gave silent thanks for her large, rowdy, wonderful, complicated family that extended beyond her four sons and their children. It included Leo and Benny and her daughter-in-law Faith’s four outrageous aunts, who helped Duke and Faith at their greenhouse. Nancy loved them all.
When Leo turned her loose, Nancy said, “I hear you’ve got some exciting things going on in Crane Landing.”
“Yes, ma’am. I just bought my own schooner and I’m excited about restoring Destiny. And Adam’s father is following another lead on my brother Ashe that sounds promising.”
Adam’s biological father, Steven Cuvier, was a smart lawyer and a generous man who was determined to help Leo find his family.
“That’s wonderful,” Nancy said, leading them all into the parlor where they settled in around the blazing fire. “I hope this one takes you right to Ashe’s door.”
“Me, too,” he said, and she could see the heartache in Leo’s eyes. “But right now, I’m just happy to be home. Benny and I were just talking about the Christmas pageant at the orphanage and the Sleigh of Hope run.”
“The children’s Christmas pageant promises to be quite the event,” she said, releasing a laugh at the thought of all those little darlings putting on a play for the adults. She turned to Dawson. “Your ears will never be the same after the cacophony of Christmas Eve at the orphanage.”
“It’s an event I look forward to with great anticipation.” The smile on Dawson’s handsome face was so warm Nancy felt her insides melt.
“The cider!” She leapt to her feet and rushed to the kitchen where the cider was just beginning to bubble in the pan. She poured five mugs, added cinnamon sticks, and took them to the parlor.
While they all sipped their cider, Nancy and Dawson exchange private glances that warmed her more than the crackling fire.
She relaxed in her chair as Leo, Adam and Rebecca returned to their conversation and shared their plans with her and Dawson. She listened to them discuss their campaign to repair the orphanage before the Christmas pageant, and which families in Fredonia were most in need of the Sleigh of Hope this Christmas. They laughed as they shared stories of years past, of growing up in Fredonia, of times in Crane Landing. They were young and full of life, and it filled Nancy with pride to see what wonderful adults her grandchildren had become. Her gaze shifted to Dawson, who was deeply absorbed in their conversation, and she thought again of the solitary life he had lived. Dawson hadn’t had children or grandchildren, and if he married Nancy he would never experience the joy and love shared between a parent and a child.