Page 11 of Her Christmas Lumberjack

“I don’t want to be any trouble…”

“Aurora, it’s no trouble.” He straightens up, towering over me like a giant and looking at me with more warmth than the fire blazing behind him. “I like having you here, okay? You don’t need to feel guilty for being here.”

If I was braver, I’d kiss him. Heck, if I was braver, I’d tell him the truth right now. But I don’t do either of those things. Instead, I thank him weakly. If he knew the real reason behind my guilt,I don’t think he’d be looking at me like this. But it still makes my heart melt—the tenderness, the care in his expression.

I wish it had all happened differently.

I wish I really was just a local journalist writing a story about Christmas.

Once Nolan is done sprucing up the guest room, he calls to me, and I grab my bag before heading through a spacious wooden hallway with a few doors on either side. He’s standing in front of the last one, which is open to reveal a cozy bedroom with a four-poster bed and its own little fireplace crackling with warmth.

“There’s a bathroom through there,” he says, pointing, “and my room’s just next door if you need anything in the night.”

His words hang in the air between us. I doubt he meant them to sound so suggestive, but despite everything, a shiver of longing runs down my spine.

“Thanks, Nolan.” I take a step into the bedroom. “It’s perfect.”

He disappears into his own room, and I hear him rooting around in the closet before he comes back, holding a huge t-shirt. “You can sleep in this if you want. Will be too big for you, but it’s clean.”

I thank him, resisting the urge to bring the fabric to my nose and take a deep sniff. The luggage I brought when I left Denver is still in my car, filled with extra clothes and pajamas. But there’s no way I’m going to tell Nolan that; he’d stride right out into the blizzard to get it for me. The small bag I brought inside for the interview contains nothing but the documents Liz gave me and a few snacks left over from my journey to Cherry Hollow, and I set it down in the corner before sitting on the bed.

There’s a pause as Nolan lingers in the doorway. I can feel his eyes burning into me, and my heart thuds, beating in my ears until he finally says, “Well, goodnight, Aurora.”

“Goodnight, Nolan. And thank you for everything.”

I smile at him and he nods before closing the door. Only when I hear his footsteps disappearing back down the hallway do I finally collapse on the bed with a sigh, reaching for my phone. I tap out a quick text to Liz.

Hi Liz, I’m snowed in at Nolan Thorne’s cabin…

Might be out here a while

Then I look at some photos my parents have sent me from their trip. Their beaming faces make me smile, but Liz’s reply wipes it off my face immediately.

This could be a blessing in disguise. It will be easier to gain his trust.

Progress is already being made at this end.

Keep going.

I shut off my phone and pull on Nolan’s t-shirt, curling up beneath the covers. It smells like him—fresh and woodsy—but it doesn’t stop the unease that swirls in my gut. Liz’s text makes it sound like Samuel’s case is going well, and I groan against the pillow. When I finally fall into a troubled sleep, I dream of Nolan, his face contorted in anger, his voice broken as he shouts words I can’t quite make out.

6

NOLAN

Sleep isimpossible with Aurora in the next room. I can almost feel her through the wall that separates us, and it takes all my control not to get up and bring her back to bed with me, like I’ve wanted to do since the minute I saw her. But I force myself to stay put. The hours crawl by until I finally give up on sleep and head for the living room, where Rudolph greets me with a lick on the hand.

“Hey, buddy. You’re looking better.”

After having his coat brushed and eating a couple of big meals, Rudolph has a sparkle in his eyes that wasn’t there before. He’s making himself at home, and I enjoy having him around.

The blizzard outside has died down. Snow piled up overnight, and Aurora’s car is completely buried. Only the roof is showing. Fat flakes are still drifting to the ground, but the wind is quiet and hushed, and I let Rudolph outside for a minute to relieve himself. Then he follows me to the kitchen where I raid the cupboards for something to make Aurora for breakfast.

“You think she’d like some pancakes, boy?” I mutter as Rudolph sniffs around my legs.

He lets out a small whine.

“You’re right. Everyone likes pancakes.”

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