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“I can ask around,” Henry offered, and something in his tone made her look at him more closely. There was an eagerness in his expression that made her think he was genuinely interested in helping her pursue this.

“Would you really do that?” she asked, touched by his willingness to go out of his way for her. “I mean, you barely know me, and you’re already going above and beyond by giving me a job when I had no relevant experience.”

Henry’s cheeks colored slightly, and he looked down at his hands. “It’s no trouble,” he said quietly. “I think I know someone who could help, and I think you should definitely consider it. You have real talent, Nicole, and it would be a shame not to share it.”

The warmth in his voice, combined with the genuine belief he seemed to have in her abilities, made Nicole’s chest tight with emotion. They didn’t know each other all that well, but he was encouraging her in a way that she couldn’t remember anyone else having done in a long time. Janet, maybe—but Carl certainly hadn’t. And Amy was so busy with her own life. Nicole didn’t begrudge her that, of course—that was just part of being her age. But she hadn’t realized how much she’d missed having that kind of encouragement until right this moment.

“That’s incredibly kind of you,” she said softly. “I’m not sure I would have had the nerve to even consider something like that on my own.”

“Sometimes we all need someone to believe in us,” Henry said with a smile, and something in his expression that made her pulse quicken. She thought she saw something else there… more than just a friendly interest or a boss trying to help his employee out. Was it possible that Henry had felt the same spark she had? That he was also trying not to overstep when it came to these unexpected, and possibly inappropriate, feelings?

Before she could think about it much longer, their waitress appeared at the table to take Henry’s order. As he put in his order to-go—a maple and apple slaw grilled chicken sandwich with a side of the tavern’s famous sweet potato fries—Nicole found herself studying his profile, noticing the way the afternoon light brought out the silver threads in his dark hair and highlighted the laugh lines around his eyes.

He was very handsome, she thought. And kind, and thoughtful… and lonely. Life had dealt him a rough hand, and it was impressive that he’d kept his kindness and caring through it. She could easily imagine how losing a spouse like that could make someone bitter. But it clearly hadn’t to Henry.

He also understood what it meant to start over, to rebuild a life after everything familiar had been stripped away. She wondered if she was romanticizing that, instead of the man himself. If the fact that he understood her plight was making her more susceptible to thoughts she normally wouldn’t entertain.

“I should probably get back soon,” Henry said after the waitress had left with his order. “I want to double-check our equipment before we head over to the next place. That installation is going to be our most complex one yet.”

“Of course,” Nicole said, carefully tucking her knitting into her bag. “I just need to pay for my lunch, and I’ll be right behind you.”

“About the holiday market,” Henry said, standing up from the booth. “Let me make some calls this afternoon. I think you’d be surprised by how much interest there would be in your work.”

As he headed toward the counter to pick up his order, Nicole sat back in the booth and tried to process what had just happened. The idea of having her own booth at a craft market felt like stepping into a completely different version of herself, one who was confident enough to put her work out into the world and brave enough to take risks on her own behalf. That wasn’t the kind of person she’d been before. She’d focused on her family, on her job—all things that required her to put others first and ignore her own needs and wants in order to make sure that her husband and daughter and boss were all taken care of.

For the first time since she was much younger, she was getting a chance to see who she wanted to be independent of all of that. It felt good.

She caught Henry’s eye as he smiled at her across the tavern, and she felt a flutter of possibility in her chest. And this time, she didn’t smother it quite as quickly as before.

* * *

The familiar quiet of Henry’s electrical shop felt different somehow as he finished cleaning up after the day’s work. The last installation had gone better than expected, despite the complexity of the design. Nicole was catching on to the work remarkably quickly, and she wasn’t slowing them down any longer. In fact, she’d pointed out a few things that had actually made it all move faster. She’d hauled and climbed and hung without complaint, and she’d started wearing correct clothing to the jobsite, which helped a great deal.

He was impressed with how hard of a worker she was and how quickly she’d learned the rhythms and processes of a job that she’d never done before. And now, alone in the shop with only the soft hum of the space heater and the distant sounds of Fir Tree Grove settling into evening, Henry found himself acutely aware of Nicole’s absence. The realization caught him off guard—this awareness of how much he had grown accustomed to her presence over the past week. When had her cheerful voice and company become such a major part of his workday routine? He almost… missed her.

He shook his head, surprised at the direction his thoughts were taking. It had been years since Daisy’s death, and he’d kept himself mostly walled off from any thoughts of developing another relationship. He’d had his great love, he figured, and that was enough. Lots of people weren’t even lucky enough to get that. He had his friends and neighbors, his peace and quiet, and he’d decided that was how his life would be from then on. He worked in solitude, kept to himself mostly, and enjoyed what parts of life there still were to find happiness in.

But Nicole had somehow slipped past his defenses without him even noticing. Her enthusiasm for learning new skills, her genuine interest in the work, her way of finding joy in small accomplishments—all of it had gradually transformed his shop and his work from a place to hide away in to something that he was, he realized, genuinely looking forward to each day. It didn’t feel like he was running away from his memories and taking refuge in busyness, he realized. He was waking up and wanting to get to work to see her, spend time with her.

The thought both thrilled and terrified him—more so terrified. He hadn’t expected those sorts of feelings, and he felt very unequipped to deal with them.

Henry reached for his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he found his friend Stan’s number. Stan had been organizing the holiday market for more than a decade, and if anyone could help Nicole secure a last-minute booth, it would be him. The market was only a week away, which meant Henry was cutting things close, but he was determined to make this happen for her.

The phone rang three times before Stan’s familiar gravelly voice answered.

“Henry! How are you?”

“I’m good,” Henry said with a smile. “Hey, I hope I’m not calling too late. I wanted to ask you about the holiday market next weekend.”

“What about it? Please tell me you’re not calling to cancel the appointment to hang the lighting. The whole thing will fall apart without you working on it.”

Henry chuckled. “No, nothing like that. I’d never do that to you, Stan, you know it. I wanted to ask if there might be any booth space still available. I know it’s last minute, but I have someone who does beautiful handmade knitting, and I think her work would be perfect for the market.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Henry could practically hear Stan thinking.

“Well, well,” Stan said with a hearty chuckle. “Henry Cline asking for special favors for a lady friend. I didn’t see that coming.”

“It’s not like that,” Henry protested, although even as he said the words, he wasn’t entirely convinced they were true. “She’s new in town, and she’s incredibly talented. I just think she would do really well, and people would love her crafts.”