Page 35 of Dragged Home for Christmas

“Wherever it is, it can stay there,” Sam said in a firm tone. “That won’t help.”

“Andthatsounds like the voice of experience.”

Sam met his gaze. “I’m not a big drinker, but I once lived with someone who was. It isn’t pretty, watching someone you love slide into oblivion.”

Mike opened his mouth to speak just as Anthony barged into the kitchen.

“Can y’all come with me? Now?” His eyes shone.

They got up and followed him into the lobby. A man stood there, clad in jeans and a thick shirt, covered by a leather jacket. He was maybe in his late forties.

Anthony gestured to Mike. “This is Nick’s nephew. Mike, this is Gabe Driscoll.”

Mike gave Gabe a polite nod. “Good evening.”

Gabe cleared his throat. “I’ll come straight to the point. I’d like two tickets for this Thanksgiving brunch you’re organizing. Jim told me all about it when we met in town.”

Mike smiled. “That’s great, but one, the tickets haven’t even been printed yet, and two, we—”

“That’s okay,” Gabe said with a wave of his hand. “I don’t have any money on me right now anyway.”

“Then just how did you intend paying for them?” Sam demanded.

Gabe’s eyes glittered. “Well, I did think you’d give them to me.”

Jim blinked. “Oh, you did, did you? I don’t recall me telling you they’d be free.”

He chuckled. “Let me explain. I’ll pay for them, but not with cash.” Gabe smiled. “I had something else in mind.”

Elliott snickered. “I’d take some of that in a heartbeat, but your husband would be after me with his shotgun.”

Gabe flushed. “I’m flattered, and yeah, he would, but that isn’t what I meant.” He turned to Mike. “I’m a carpenter by trade. I’m offering my services, to take care of any repairs that need doing. I can supply the lumber too.”

Mike stared at him, his brain unable to compute. “All that—for two tickets?”

Gabe smiled. “I know how it sounds. But I loved Nick like a brother. We became friends not long after he movedhere.” His face tightened. “I’m not a man who cries easily, but Nick brought me to tears twice. Once, when that—whensomeonewalked out on him, and again when he died.” He gestured to the hotel. “This was his dream, his happy place. If you want to continue that dream because that’s what Nick would have wanted, thenIwant to help in any way I can.” His eyes held warmth. “And you might as well know, I’m not the only person around here who thinks like that. Nick was a special guy. If someone—I won’t say his name, but it rhymes with harp—gets his way—P-town would lose part of its history, and those of us who’ve built homes and businesses here? That’s the last thing we want. So expect a lot of offers of help and support.”

Tears pricked the corners of Mike’s eyes as he shook Gabe’s outstretched hand.

“Thank you so much. I … I don’t know what to say.”

Gabe grinned. “It’s a dealwill do just fine.”

He laughed. “Then it’s a deal.”

“I’d better start a list of attendees for the brunch,” Sam said, heading to the front desk.

The door opened, and a man entered. Mike estimated him to be in his late fifties, early sixties.

Gabe broke into a wide grin. “I thought it wouldn’t be long before you showed up.”

The man came forward, offering his hand. “Mike O’Neill? I’m Harry Dexter. I own Provincetown Supplies, a hardware store, near the pier.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Mike shook his hand. “What can I do for you?”

“I met Jim earlier. And we got to discussing your plans for the Velvet House.” His face flushed. “By the way, I love the name change. Nick would love that.”

“You knew my uncle well?”

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