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Henry found himself running out of objections. The truth was, he desperately needed help, and Nicole Peterson seemed to need a job. He was worried about her lack of experience and whether she’d be a hindrance rather than a help, but the fact was, right then he didn’t have help at all. If she really could learn quickly, she might be exactly what he needed.

“Fine,” he said gruffly, wondering why he felt more on edge than usual. “You can start tomorrow.”

Nicole’s eyes widened, as if she’d been waiting for him to refuse her and show her the door. He was already wondered if he shouldn’t have just done that instead.

“I have five houses scheduled tomorrow,” Henry said. “Starting at eight in the morning. It’ll be a long day.”

“I’ll be here at seven-thirty.” Nicole smiled. “With bells on.”

Henry nodded slowly, still not entirely convinced he was making the right decision. “Dress warmly. We’ll start with some basic tasks and see how it goes.”

“Thank you!” Nicole’s smile brightened. “I really appreciate the opportunity.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Henry said with a wry expression. “Ask me again after you’ve spent a day wrestling with tangled light strings in twenty-degree weather.”

Nicole laughed. “Fair enough. I’ll let you get on with it, and I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” She started toward the door, then paused with her hand on the handle. “Just so you know, I don’t give up easily. Whatever you throw at me tomorrow, I can handle it.”

Henry jingled his keys in his hand as she walked out, knowing he should get going, but unable to take his eyes off of Nicole for a moment. She walked away much more confidently than she’d come into his shop, and he couldn’t help thinking as he watched her go that she looked like she belonged in a corporate boardroom or an upscale restaurant, not on a ladder stringing lights around someone’s gutters.

He shook his head and walked out to his truck, but his mind kept drifting back to Nicole as he drove toward his first appointment of the afternoon. There was definitely more to her story than she was letting on, he felt sure of that. People didn’t just up and relocate to a temporary residence at the local B&B of a small town without a compelling reason. He couldn’t figure out why a pretty city woman like her would want to stay in Fir Tree Grove for more than a week or so, on vacation.

She’s not going to last long, he thought as he drove. City people had a tendency, he’d noticed over the decades of living in Fir Tree Grove, to romanticize small-town life without realizing the reality of it. He’d seen plenty of tourists fall in love with Fir Tree Grove, try to move, and then discover that actually living there meant limited shopping, cold winters, a lack of new job opportunities, and a tight-knit community that knew everyone else’s business all of the time.

He’d seen something in her face that made him think she didn’t give up easily, but he had a feeling that she’d decide before too long that she wanted out of the small, sleepy town, and move on. But in the meantime, she was willing to work, and he needed the help, even if it was temporary.

He was curious, he found, to see how tomorrow would go. Even if it ended in disaster, it would be interesting to see how it played out.

Ultimately, Henry figured as he pulled up to the first job of the day, he really had nothing to lose.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Vanessa stood in front of her bedroom mirror, tugging at the hem of her ugly Christmas sweater for the third time in as many minutes. She’d tried on every other outfit in her closet, from wrap dresses to leggings and long sweaters, but nothing had fit right or felt good. She’d eventually decided to just wear the ridiculous sweater that she’d bought while out shopping with Imogen, reasoning that it had made her feel better then. She wasn’t entirely convinced it was the right choice.

Her feet throbbed in the sensible flats she’d reluctantly chosen over her usual heeled boots. The swelling had gotten worse this week, and even her most comfortable shoes felt like instruments of torture by evening. She’d seriously considered calling Mabel to cancel dinner, using some excuse about not feeling well, but Jackson had been looking forward to this evening all week.

“You almost ready, sweetheart?” Jackson’s voice drifted from the living room, cheerful and bright as always.

Vanessa sighed and gave herself one final look in the mirror. The woman staring back at her looked like a stranger to her, and she still couldn’t reconcile how she felt she should still look with the reflection that she saw. She was softer around the edges, her face rounder than she remembered. It wasn’t necessarily bad, but it wasn’t quite her either. For all her efforts, she couldn’t stop feeling the disconnect, as if she was watching someone else live her life while she observed from the sidelines.

“Coming,” she called back, grabbing her coat from the bed.

Jackson was waiting by the front door, keys in hand and a smile lighting up his face when he saw her. Without hesitation, he slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her close against his side. The gesture was so natural, so automatic, that it made her heart flutter the way it had when they were first dating. He looked down at her sweater and chuckled, shaking his head.

“You look beautiful,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. “Mabel is going to get a kick out of the ugly Christmas sweater. Fir Tree Grove should have a contest this year. Yours would win.”

Despite her earlier desire to stay home, Vanessa found herself smiling. “That’s exactly what every woman wants to hear—that she looks beautifully ugly.”

“You know what I mean.” Jackson tipped her chin up so that he could give her a kiss. “You’ve got that glow everyone talks about. It suits you.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, leaning into his warmth. For a moment, the unsettled feeling that had been plaguing her all day seemed to fade around the edges. They had each other, she thought, and even when she didn’t feel altogether herself, Jackson always knew what to say to cheer her up.

As they walked toward the car, Jackson’s expression grew thoughtful. “You know, this is probably our last Christmas like this,” he said, opening the passenger’s side door for her. “Just the two of us. Next year we’ll have a little one to worry about during dinner parties.”

The comment hit Vanessa like she’d been doused with cold water, sending that familiar flutter of anxiety through her chest. Next Christmas, they’d be parents. Responsible for a tiny human being who would depend on them for everything. The magnitude of that responsibility felt suddenly overwhelming in a way that she couldn’t think how to explain it, even to Jackson.

She managed a smile and nodded. “It’ll be different, that’s for sure.”

Jackson squeezed her hand before starting the engine. “Good different though. I can’t wait to see you as a mom. You’re going to be incredible.”