Page 31 of Postmarked December

Being with Nick was becoming oddly comfortable, which made no sense given she’d only just met him. Perhaps it was his unassuming, relaxed demeanor, the way nothing seemed to ruffle his feathers. He seemed genuinely happy to sit with her in the middle of an apple orchard, when he’d had no plans to do so prior to meeting her. He’d paid for meals, accommodated her, and seemed sincerely interested. She kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Deep in thought again?” he asked.

“I was just wondering why you agreed to do all this with some random person you met on a plane.”

His features shifted, a serious expression emerging. “I surprised myself, actually. I don’t know. You’re easy to talk to, and I find it strangely intriguing figuring you out.”

Marion’s voice filtered in: Maybe it’s meant to be, whether you’ve planned for it or not. That’s why it feels so easy.

The woman from the counter brought them each an oversized mug, full to the brim with steaming, spiced cider, adorned with a cinnamon stick and a peppermint drop on the saucer. Had she lingered before she left, or was Heather being paranoid? It was busy enough that, if the woman was waiting to give something to her, she probably couldn’t guess that Heather was looking at her.

Nick held up his cider. “To happy surprises,” he said.

With two hands, she clinked her mug against his and took a sip. The cider tasted honeyed and decadent, with gentle notes of cinnamon and spice against a soft tartness of apple, which balanced the sweetness.

But once the rich flavor had settled on her tongue, a different sensation took over. This one not quite as pleasant. She set down her mug and eyed the woman at the counter, considering whether one of Toby’s notes might be lying behind it. Had the woman wondered if the note was meant for Heather, or had the woman’s reaction to her order and then again at their table all been in Heather’s mind? Nick had become a distraction—albeit a handsome one—but she was meant to get another note. Toby had said so, hadn’t he?

“Are you thinking about having the pie as much as I am?” Nick asked, dragging her from her thoughts.

“Hm?”

“You keep looking over at the counter. Are you eyeing the apple pie? It would be a nice dessert, wouldn’t it?”

“Oh,” she said, relieved he’d fabricated an answer for her. “I was considering it, but I’m pretty full after the pizza.”

He leaned forward and squinted at her. “Something’s on your mind. I won’t pry, but I’m here if you want to tell me anything.”

She deliberated. You don’t even know yourself what’s going on.

“Thanks,” she said. “I’m really fine. So tell me, when are you flying home?”

“It’s a quick trip. I leave tomorrow.”

“Oh! I leave tomorrow too. What time is your flight?”

He pulled out his phone and pulled up his e-ticket. “Eleven.”

She laughed. “I’m probably on that flight.”

That now-familiar interest flickered. “Then back to reality,” he said, with unspoken thoughts lingering in his gaze.

“Yes.”

What were the odds that they’d be leaving the same day and possibly on the same flight? It was as if God, Himself, were moving her life along, whether she wanted Him to or not, forcing her hand. If they flew home together, they’d have another couple of hours and then they’d both be in Nashville. If that happened, it would give her time to gather enough courage if she decided to tell him everything right before they landed. But how much, if any of it, would Toby have wanted her to divulge? She hadn’t been in the habit of dishing out her life story to people before, so why start now? She didn’t have anything to hide, but all she could think about was Toby looking down on her and seeing her going against his wishes. It was enough to paralyze her.

“We should share a car to the airport,” he suggested, as if reading her mind.

“Yes. Let’s.”

She’d only been gone two days, and she already had a different outlook, thanks to Nick. Meeting him had pulled her from her rut and changed her in ways she could never have expected. The difference was unreal.

“Could I see you again when we get home?” he asked.

Exhilaration coursed through her. “I’d love that.”

They continued chatting about the cider, the fireplace, how nice it was to be able to sit together in such a festive environment.

Ten minutes went by. Then twenty. The woman from the counter had passed their table twice, and there’d been no sign of another note, so Heather seemed to be in the clear, thank goodness. While Heather didn’t want to have to explain herself, she was also quietly trying to figure out how to ask the woman if there was a note before they had to get up. It was getting crowded, and people were looking for places to sit. How long could they stay there?