Nick swept the dog into his arms and the two of us hurried into the warmth of the cabin. Any awkwardness between us had been absorbed by our canine rescue.
Once we got all the snow off his fur, and the ice melted from between the pads on his feet, the dog was able to walk limp-free. “I think he’s okay, just a little skinny.”
“And hungry.” Nick filled up a second bowl with some of the casserole Mrs. L had made for him.
The dog gulped down the food, drank two bowls ofwater, then fell asleep on the floor in front of the fire. I sat on the floor next to him. “Do you think he’s a stray?”
He looked like a hound dog mixed with something crazy, like a wildebeest. He had long brown and white fur that was especially wiry and long on his ears. “It’s hard to say. If he’s not, he’s either a long way from home, or the home he has isn’t taking very good care of him.” Nick slid off the sofa to sit next to me on the floor.
We sat in front of the fireplace for hours, stroking the fur on the dog’s back, one of us periodically getting up to add more logs to the woodstove. The time came when I couldn’t stifle a yawn, the fresh air and cozy woodstove cabin had gotten to me. “I should go to bed.”
“I’ll make it up for you.” Nick took the stack of sheets and climbed the ladder to the loft. He came back down and poured me a glass of water. “Your bed is all ready for you. And the good news is that it doesn’t have springs.”
I smiled. “GJ was horrified about that.”
“I guess it was a good thing that it was me and not some old fat guy.”
“The man who plays Santa in the parade stays at the inn.” I lifted my hand from the dog’s back to playfully push Nick on the shoulder. “You sacrificed yourself and stopped Santa from falling victim to the sofa bed. Nick Tinsel, you saved Christmas.”
“Right. Christmas.” He got a faraway look in his eye. “That’s coming up, isn’t it.”
“You’re not a big fan of Christmas, either, I take it.”
“You don’t like Christmas?” He settled in beside me. Our shoulders weren’t touching, but they were close.
“I guess.” I shrugged. “When I was little it was good, but…” I stopped.
“But, what?”
“I don’t want to bore you with all of this broken familyshit. Everyone’s got problems. Mine are probably not as bad as half the people out there.”
Nick exhaled then grabbed my hand. “Don’t compare your experiences with the experiences of others Evie. Just because someone had it worse than you, doesn’t make your past and your struggles any less valid.”
“Did you just turn into Dr. Phil?” I leaned against him and laughed.
“And you turn to humor when you’re uncomfortable,” he added. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything, or pushed you to talk about your past.”
The fire crackled and the kerosene lamp flickered on the small table. The cabin was smaller than my room at the Snowy Peaks Inn, and was definitely cozier. I rubbed my hands on the thighs of my jeans. My coveralls were hung by the fireplace. The puddle of melted snow on the floor beneath was slowly being evaporated by the woodstove.
I took a breath, and then let it all come out. “My dad cheated on my mom and that’s why they got divorced. They had to sell the farm and all of the animals, including my horse. He was a shitty man and hid a bunch of money from my mom. She fell apart and decided that since she’d had me so young she hadn’t had time to be young herself, so she started partying. When I lived with her, it was with whatever loser she was sleeping with at the time. When I lived with my dad, it was with him and his new wife, and the kids they had together. His new wife didn’t like me and didn’t hide it. When my family imploded, I didn’t celebrate Christmas ever again. Even with the last guy I was dating. He actually ghosted in October, a week before my birthday.”
Nick took my hand but didn’t say anything. “I’m sorry. I—”
“Don’t apologize.”
It was the first time I’d told anyone about what had happened. I always thought that I wouldn’t be able to getthrough it without crying, but after I told Nick, I felt lighter. Tears didn’t come, only relief. “What about you? Why are you such a grinch?”
He took a sip of water. “I never knew my parents. I was born into the system. As a foster kid I wasn’t overly lucky with my placements. Let’s just say Christmas wasn’t a top priority for the people who fostered me. The only exception was the hockey family I told you about. I actually got Christmas presents when I lived with them.” His eyes glazed over and he smiled at that memory. “Although, they were always hockey related. Like, a jock strap in my stocking.”
“It sounds like they were good people.” I didn’t think. I reached out to hold his hand.
“I mean, yes. They were good people. They had their faults, they fought a lot, the dad was really hard on me when it came to hockey, but I guess it made me the player that I am.” His lower lip trembled. I may have gotten away without crying, but it looked like Nick might not be as lucky. “They died in a car accident on Christmas Eve.”
“Oh.”
“Ever since then I haven’t been able to celebrate. Everything reminds me of that night. The colorful lights, the trees, the Christmas carols.” He swiped away a tear. “It’s been hard being in this town at this time of year.”
The dog snorted in his sleep, then went back to snoring lightly. I stood and pulled Nick to his feet, then wrapped my arms around his waist. I held him tightly. It took him a minute, but then his arms wrapped around me.
