Dalton had agreed to winter pay, but Michael had been trying to get him to accept back pay for the harvest for two days now. And he had him right where he wanted him tonight. Obviously, Dalton wasn’t going to cause a fuss with all eyes on him. And when Michael implied that he wanted Dalton to treat his daughter to an amazing evening out, it was all the harder to refuse him.
Besides, it had been worrying Dalton that maybe he had underestimated the prices at the restaurant.
“Thank you, sir,” he said instead of protesting. “I’ll do whatever I can to make sure she has a nice evening.”
“I know you will, son,” Michael said with a warm smile.
“No more hanging around,” Mary scolded them. “These cookies won’t bake themselves.”
“Shall we?” Dalton asked Ella, to the soundtrack of Dove’s giggling.
“We shall,” she said.
He gestured for her to go first down the hallway, and he felt grateful for his manners when he saw how nice she looked from behind, with her golden hair falling down her back.
Once they pulled on their coats, he opened the front door for her.
He was half-hoping to offer her his arm, but she moved quickly down the stairs and he barely made it to the truck in time to open her door for her.
Maybe she’s just nervous,he told himself as he headed over to the driver’s side and got in.
He started the truck and breathed in a lungful of air that seemed colder than the breeze outside.
“It’ll warm up eventually,” he said, turning to Ella.
She smiled tightly, and he suddenly wondered if this was her first date since losing her husband.
How did I not think about that?
“Are you okay doing this?” he asked. “We don’t have to if it makes you uncomfortable. I’m sure they can use a hand with those cookies.”
Her grateful smile was almost like sunshine.
“I’m okay,” she told him. “But thank you. That means a lot.”
He nodded to her, feeling relieved, and pulled down the driveway without bothering to let the truck finish warming up.
“Want to put on the radio?” he offered after a moment.
She leaned forward and tapped the button.
Brenda Lee’s “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” filled the cab of the truck, and when he glanced over, Ella was smiling.
“You like the Christmas station?” she asked him when she caught him looking.
“Of course,” he said. “Doesn’t everyone? I can’t believe you grew up with all this Christmas music playing all the time. Country life is the best.”
“Some people would say it’s too much,” Ella said.
“Well, I think those people are dead wrong,” Dalton said. “You can never have too much Christmas.”
It hit him suddenly that she knew his history, and that all his childhood Christmases hadn’t been magical.
“The meaning,” he told her quietly. “And the peace. It’s not all about the presents and stuff.”
“Of course not,” she told him. “We didn’t always have the best presents either. The farm had some rough years when we were little. But Mom and Dad always did their best, and there was always food on the table.”
“That sounds like heaven to me,” Dalton said. “Christmas with the people you love, and food on the table.”
