The rest of Christmas morning at Nancy’s house was quiet. Nancy and Dawson sat in front of the fire, talking about their families, and past Christmases, and the future. They set aside any concerns and enjoyed easy conversation. For two blissful hours they were just two people enjoying each other’s company. Dawson enjoyed her casual touching, the way she’d lay her small hand on his forearm when laughing over a past shared memory, the caress of her thumb over his knuckles when she was talking and unaware of what she was doing. The contact with her grounded him. Maybe he’d been missing more than just social contact with people when he’d withdrawn to his cottage. Now that he was with Nancy, he was coming to realize just how important that emotional and physical connection was. It wasn’t just romantic contact that he’d missed, although he welcomed every opportunity to demonstrate his feelings for Nancy, but rather the simple contact of exchanging a hug with his family or holding Nancy’s hand.
After relaxing over tea and warm conversation for the morning, Dawson and Nancy worked comfortably side-by-side in the kitchen to prepare a light lunch. Afterward, they bundled up and walked out Liberty Street to Kyle and Amelia’s house to spend time with the family and have Christmas dinner. It all felt very domestic for Dawson, and surprisingly comfortable despite the previous episode at the mill between himself and Kyle.
When they arrived, they heard the happy squeals and laughter of children and several adults. A grin tipped Nancy’s mouth and she pointed out back. “Sounds as if the kids are already sledding down the hill behind Kyle’s house.”
“Then let’s join them,” he said, giving her gloved fingers a warm squeeze. He had been deeply moved by the experiences of the last few days, but he didn’t know how to express all that was circling his mind and heart. He needed her to know that he understood how important her family was to her, and that he intended for them to become a part of his life as well.
In her eyes he saw affection and intimacy, but also conflicting emotions. What was it that was causing her such distress and keeping her from embracing his proposal?
He tucked her hand under his elbow and escorted her out back. The instant they rounded the back corner of the house, they were accosted by Nancy’s grandchildren.
“Grandma! Mr. Crane! Come sledding with us,” Lucas, Kyle’s middle son yelled.
“We got a new toboggan! You can try it out, Grandma!” Jeremiah, Duke’s son added.
Proud of himself for remembering which child belonged to which son, Dawson looked down the bank where the snowy sledding track cut down through a small gully created by runoff water making its way down into the gorge. The deep track ran somewhat parallel with the very cliff it was descending. “It looks precarious,” he said.
“It is precarious,” Nancy replied with a laugh, “but we have been sledding down this bank since my boys were little tykes and no one has ever gone over the edge or hit a tree. Well, that isn’t entirely true,” she added with a wince. “Hal crashed into a tree one year because he was clowning and forgot to pay attention to navigating the track. He shifted his weight the wrong way while going too fast and he flipped the toboggan and launched himself up over the rim and into a sapling.”
Dawson grimaced. “Well, that is making me reconsider taking a run.”
Nancy flapped her hand as if to dismiss his concern. “The gully is deep enough that should you run up on the side you’ll tip over rather than shoot up over the rim. Hal crashed because he was being entirely too reckless. That meeting with the sapling effectively corrected that lapse in judgement.”
Dawson laughed and made a show of peering over the side of the cliff and down into the gorge forty or so feet below. “Shall we try it then?” he asked.
“Do you dare?” She was absolutely beautiful when her eyes lit with challenge.
“The question is; do you dare?” he countered, enjoying their repartee.
Her chin lifted. “Of course. I’ll enjoy the trip down, but I’m not so sure I can climb back up this bank.”
“Only one way to find out,” Dawson responded.
“Oh my, it appears we don’t have a toboggan,” she said, not sounding at all disappointed, which made him laugh. “Guess we’ll have to watch instead.”
Tyler, Radford’s son, passed his toboggan rope to her. “You can use my sled, Grandma.”
Dawson hooted as Nancy made a face at her grinning grandson. She eyed the hill suspiciously. “I don’t recall this being so steep and… terrifying.”
Dawson leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Are you afraid of the hill or afraid of being in my arms?”
“I’m afraid we’ll end up in the middle of the gorge sitting up to our necks in ice water.”
Dawson laughed at Nancy’s conundrum. “I didn’t think you were afraid of anything, Nancy.”
While she stood there pondering her situation, Dawson turned to Tyler and placed his finger over his lips, prompting the boy to silence. He positioned the toboggan, sat down, and before Nancy could protest, he pulled her down between his legs. “Hang on, darling!”
Tyler gave them a shove from behind, and they were off down the hill.
Nancy screeched and laughed at the same time. “You wicked man!”
“No sense debating all day,” he said, wrapping his arms around her as the sled picked up speed.
“I hope you know how to steer this thing.”
“Me, too!” On the first slight curve, he leaned into the curve and drew his knees in tight to keep Nancy from sliding sideways off the sled. He snugged his arms around her waist and pulled her close. She was so tiny! His heart pounded from the excitement of the ride and the feeling of holding Nancy in his arms. “Hold on, darling, we’re in for it now.”
Laughing, she grabbed hold of his arms. “Don’t you dare let us crash, Dawson Crane. These old bones will break into a million pieces.”
“It would help considerably to know where the brake is on this thing,” he said, his voice shaking from the pounding they were taking as the wooden sled pounded over drifts and lumps of snow and frozen tree roots.
“The brake is the bottom of your boot heels!”
“Good Lord!”
Her laughter echoed down the gorge as her family looked on from above, and some of them from below where they were finishing their own wild run.
“I’ll do my best to keep us from becoming a pile of bones,” he shouted. The gully was so deep it felt as if they were sledding down the inside of a huge pipe. The sled traveled up one wall and drifted back down to center, only to zip up the other wall with the next curve. Back and forth they went, sweeping up the walls of the snowy channel as they raced downhill.
Nancy squeezed Dawson’s arms around her and begged him to use the brake. But Dawson feared pulling the brake lever would snap the thing in two, and if he laid a boot heel to the hard packed snow it would launch him right off the sled, taking Nancy with him. So he remained tucked in, arms and knees holding Nancy in place as the wind whistled past their ears.
Despite the fearful rush, it was also exhilarating and sent them both into hysterical laughter—the kind that one releases when torn between delight and sheer terror.
As they neared the bottom, the hill began to level out and their speed began to slow. Dawson released Nancy’s waist with his right hand and pulled the brake lever, bringing the toboggan to a slow, shuddering stop at the bottom of the hill.
“I have delivered you unbroken, milady,” he declared with a flourish of his gloved hand.
Nancy rolled off the sled onto her knees where she gulped a breath. “I am eternally grateful for that kindness.”
Laughing, he pushed up to his feet and extended his hand to pull her to her feet. She fell against his chest and gazed into his eyes, her own filled with laughter. “That was wildly invigorating, wasn’t it?”
He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her tight. “I haven’t had this much fun since I was a boy shimmying mast poles in the shipyard with my brothers,” Dawson said. “We were terrifyingly careless in our play.”
“I think you still are a reckless boy.”
He felt reckless. He lowered his gaze to her lips, longing to kiss her, but the shrieks of laughter coming from her grandchildren reminded him that they weren’t alone.
Together they turned to look uphill where Nancy’s sons were giving the younger children rides on the toboggan.
“I’m not sure I have it in me to head back up the hill. You may need to drag me back up on the sled,” she said.
“Don’t you worry, sweetheart. I can make the climb, and I’ll be by your side every step of the way.” He squeezed her hand one more time and then turned to grab the rope of the toboggan. Together, they headed back up the hill.
The return trip up the hill was slow and they stopped often to catch their breath and to watch the others race down the hill. Dawson found himself good and winded by the time they reached the top. His leg ached from the cold, but he felt stronger than he’d felt in years.
He turned to Nancy who looked equally winded but happy. Passing the toboggan rope to Adam, he gestured for him and Rebecca to go ahead and take a turn.
Adam and Rebecca shared a curious glance, and then they smiled.
“I won’t be riding today,” Rebecca said.
“Are you unwell?” Nancy asked with concern. “Have you had a setback? Do we need to head back to the house?”
Rebecca leaned in and whispered, “I’m sorry, Grandma, I didn’t mean to alarm you. I’m not riding today because I’m expecting your first great grandchild.”
The look on Nancy’s face changed from one of concern to sheer joy as the words Rebecca spoke sank in.
“Oh, sweetheart…” She clasped hands with Rebecca. “What wonderful news!” she said. And Dawson could see that Nancy meant every word. She was delighted by Rebecca’s pregnancy and that she would have another baby to love.
“We haven’t told anyone other than my father and mother. We’ll tell everyone else after Christmas.”
“Of course. I can hardly believe you’re old enough to have your own children,” Nancy said, a bit of melancholy in her eyes. “I can’t wait to be a great-grandmother and hold your little bundle in my arms.” She pulled Rebecca and Adam into her arms and gave them a firm hug. “I have so much to ask you two, but I’ll wait until you make your announcement to the others.” With that, she stepped back and made way for Dawson to quietly offer his congratulations to his two neighbors who had become friends, and perhaps soon, if he had anything to say about it, would become family.
Her first great-grandchild! Nancy couldn’t stop the smile that broke across her face as she thought about that. Rebecca’s comment this morning now made sense. She planned to put a lock of their baby’s hair in her new locket.
Nancy imagined the blankets and sweaters she would knit for the newest member of the Grayson family. Gracious. Another generation of Graysons. Hal would be so proud. Her smile faltered as she realized this was another milestone in her life that Hal wasn’t here to share.
And then she looked at her arm linked with Dawson’s. She felt guilty that she thought of Hal while on Dawson’s arm. What was she doing? She couldn’t do this thing with Dawson, could she? Did she have room in her life for both men?
And what of her promise to Hal?
Each time these thoughts circled her mind they spun her heart sideways. What was she to do? There simply wasn’t an acceptable answer.
She and Dawson reached the house where everyone was making their way inside. Dawson surprised her by scooping six-year-old Sarah, Radford’s daughter, up in his arms and carrying her inside. “We’d better get to the table before all those boys gobble up everything and leave us nothing but crumbs.” Dawson tweaked Sarah’s side, making her squeal with laughter.
Seeing him with Sarah perched on his arm was both sweet and heartbreaking. Dawson would make a great father. And here was Nancy about to become a great-grandmother. Dawson wasn’t a young man, but he could marry a woman who could give him children. He had come so far in the last few months. He deserved the chance to have a full life.
That thought circled Nancy’s mind relentlessly throughout their Christmas supper, and it would have been her companion on their walk home except that she noticed Dawson’s limp becoming more pronounced with each step they took.
“Did you hurt your leg when we were sledding?” she asked, deeply concerned by the pinched look on his face.
“I think it’s just aching from getting too cold earlier. It has me wishing I’d have brought along my cane, though.”
Nancy gripped his arm more firmly and playfully snuggled into his side. “I’ll keep you upright, Dawson. Just lean on me.”
“There are so many reasons I’m going to accept your offer that I can’t begin to explain them all,” he said, gazing down at her with eyes so blue and filled with such warmth it ignited a blaze in her abdomen. “For now, I’ll just say that I like leaning on you.”
She laughed. “Well, if you think this is nice just wait until I treat your leg when we get home. Your other leg will be jealous.”
“I can hardly wait,” he said, laughter rich in his voice.
“I’ve missed bantering with you,” she said, slowing their pace. “That’s one of the things I’ve missed most about being away from you. Each time I received one of your letters filled with wonderful, witty conversation and hilarious stories, I’d savor it for days.”
“I believe my letters were also filled with words of love and heartfelt promises,” he added.
“Indeed, and to such a degree I felt my face heat each time I would read those words. You’ve filled my mind with dreams of such grand adventures that it’s difficult to bring my mind back to my common life when I’m forced to set aside your letters.”
“Those promises are real, Nancy. My letters aren’t meant for you to live those adventures vicariously. They’re meant to inspire you to step outside and play again, to cast off your old ideas and dance again—to dance with me.”
“I wish it were that easy, Dawson.”
“It is. Just say yes.”
She sighed as they walked up her driveway.
“You could at least start by telling your family that I proposed to you, that we are more than friends, which, quite frankly, I believe they already know.”
“Our relationship is our business, Dawson. I see no need to share the details with my children.”
“That might present a problem if you should say yes to my proposal. But then again, if your plan is to reject me, keeping our relationship private will require less explanation when I leave without you. Is that your plan?” he asked, his voice quiet.
Nancy stopped at the bottom step and faced him. “Honestly, Dawson, I truly don’t know. And standing here in the cold debating something I’ve already turned over in my mind a hundred times with no clear answer is… it’s senseless. Let’s go inside so I can tend to your leg. That at least will be of benefit to both of us.”
“My leg is in full agreement,” he said, tipping her a wry smile.
He was stepping back and letting the conversation rest for the moment, for which she was deeply grateful.
“You know why I think this decision is so difficult for you,” he asked, sweeping away her momentary relief.
There was no good response other than a shrug.
“I think you’re afraid I won’t write you anymore letters.”
A huff of laughter burst from her mouth. “There’s a good bit of truth in that statement, Dawson. I value those letters quite highly, you know.”
And so it went, the two of them exchanging playful banter as they entered the house and set about easing the pain in Dawson’s leg. He stoked the fire and settled in beside the toasty blaze while Nancy fetched hot tea. She returned to the parlor and set a small pan filled with field corn on top of glowing orange embers in the fireplace.
“Are you popping corn without a lid?” he asked, his eyebrows peaked.
“No,” she said with a laugh. “This corn won’t pop. I’m heating it for a couple of minutes so I can fill this bag and place it on your leg. A hot corn bag works better than a hot water bottle.”
“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” he said, eyeing the corn. He watched with interest as Nancy poured the corn into a bag and closed the drawstring top.
“There,” she said. “Perfectly warm. Place this on your leg where it aches the most while fetch some balm that Faith made.”
Instead of placing the bag on his leg, Dawson turned it in his hands as if amazed by the simple idea.
“It works better if it’s actually on your leg,” she said, heading toward the bathroom.
When she returned, Dawson was leaning back in his chair with his feet propped on the low parlor table and the corn bag draped across the top side of his knee. “This feels wonderful.”
“Told you that you’d like it.”
“Well, you were right. And you were also right that my other leg is jealous.”
Nancy laughed. “I haven’t even begun yet.”
Dawson’s eyes closed and he grinned. “I can hardly wait. I’m all yours, darling.”
A naughty little thrill zipped through Nancy’s belly. But she couldn’t help herself. Hearing a man like Dawson, so wealthy, powerful, and handsome, professing to be all hers was a little heady. Knowing she was about to touch him intimately made her heart pound.
“I’ll need to lift your pants leg so I can apply this balm,” she said.
Dawson cracked open one eye and looked at her. “Do you need my permission or my help?”
She shook her head. “I can manage, if you don’t mind the breach of etiquette.”
His hoot of laughter filled the parlor. “If you even need to ask that question you don’t know me at all.”
“Point made,” she said, kneeling on the floor and placing the jar of balm beside her knee. “Prepare to be accosted, Mr. Crane.”
Amidst their laughter, Nancy pushed his pants leg high above his knee—and she froze, her heart cramping with compassion. “Oh, Dawson, this must be incredibly painful,” she whispered, her eyes taking in the massive scarring up his shin and the side of his knee. His lower leg was a mess of sinew and craters and lumpy scar tissue. “How did this happen?”
“When I fell at the shipyard I landed in a pile of scrap metal and wood debris. My leg took the brunt of the fall, and my head absorbed the rest. It looks worse than it feels,” he added, but she wasn’t so sure he was being completely truthful.
“I had no idea, Dawson. I’m so sorry I’ve been walking you around Fredonia like a work horse when my son has a stable full of horses and carriages at our disposal.”
He reached down and clasped her hand. “I wouldn’t have wanted that had you offered, Nancy. You can’t know how good it feels to be back on my feet again. I like walking. A lot. I rarely take a carriage anywhere in Crane Landing. You know that. So there’s absolutely no need for your concern. Today is just a bad day for my leg. I have those days occasionally. It’s nothing to be concerned about. After resting it tonight it will be good as new tomorrow.”
“If you say so,” Nancy said, her eyes shifting between Dawson’s handsome face and his horribly scarred leg. “Will it cause you more pain if I rub some balm into your leg?”
“It will be absolute heaven.”
Nancy wasn’t so sure, so she applied the first palm full of balm with extreme gentleness. “Is this pressure too much?” she asked.
“It feels great. You’re not going to hurt me, Nancy. It actually feels good when you massage the balm in with some pressure. But you don’t need to do this. I know my leg is a ghastly sight. I can rub it in myself.”
“I’m not put off by the sight of your leg, Dawson, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”
“It was.” He angled a wry grin at her. “I hadn’t meant to let you see my leg until after you’d married me and it was too late for you to escape.”
She laughed. “Too late. I’ve already added it to my mental checklist of reasons not to marry you.” She was making light of their conversation, but even joking about his injury couldn’t alleviate the sympathy she felt for what he must have suffered. “I can’t imagine the pain you must have been in when this happened.”
“Being in a coma helped considerably, and by the time I woke up the resulting headaches tended to take my mind off my leg.”
“That must have been such a difficult time for you.” As she smoothed her warm palms over his calf and up and around his knee, she felt him relax and sink further into the cushioned wingback chair. “What were you like before the accident?” she asked. “You have a wonderful sense of humor. Were you as funny then as you are now?”
He laughed. “My brothers claim they could barely tolerate me when I started telling stories and joking. But I suspect I’m much the same as before, just tempered by age and injury.”
“I like your witty repartee and storytelling.” Nancy sat back on her heels and met his eyes. “I could listen to you for hours and remain thoroughly captivated.”
He lifted his hand, palm up, and cupped her chin. “I’m captivated every time I look at you,” he said.