Page 18 of Her Christmas Lumberjack

Over my dead body.

But beneath the rage, another emotion is spreading through me, cold and heavy.

Betrayal.

Aurora lied to me. All this time, she was here to find intel that would help Samuel take the farm away from me. I trusted her. I let Aurora in and showed her every part of me. Now I don’t know what to believe.

“Was any of this real?” I ask her, my voice hollow. “Us?”

Aurora’s face crumples. She takes a step toward me, lifting her arms like she’s about to hug me, but she seems to think better of it, limbs hanging awkwardly at her sides. “Yes, Nolan. All of it was real. I hated lying to you. I never should have done it, and I’m so, so sorry.”

Her words sound honest, but there’s something I can’t get out of my head.

“What was the plan?” I ask her hoarsely.

“What do you mean?”

“When the roads cleared, what were you going to do?” I look at her, my gaze fixed on her red-rimmed eyes. It feels like a fist is squeezing my heart, threatening to tear it apart. “Were you planning to just leave? Go back to Denver and tell your boss everything you found? Never see me again?”

Aurora closes her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I…I was going to tell you everything first. So you’d be prepared. And then…yes, I was going to leave. Not because I wanted to, but because…because I knew I’d messed up too badly for you to forgive me.” She opens her eyes, the sadness in them making me wince. “You’ll be better off without me, Nolan. I’ve broken your trust in the w-worst way, and all I can say is that I am so incredibly sorry.”

I nod, but can’t bring myself to speak. It’s like a blizzard in my head. Roaring, scattered thoughts slip away before I can catch them. I need to be alone. Aurora’s revelations have shaken me up like a damn snow globe, and no matter how much I want to wrap her in my arms and pretend nothing is wrong, there’s a lot for me to process first.

“I’m gonna take a walk,” I tell her, rubbing a hand over my beard. “Need some time to think all this over.”

“Of course.” Aurora wraps her arms around herself, taking a step back. “Take all the time you need. I’ll get out of your hairas soon as the roads are plowed. And I’ll do everything I can to disprove Samuel’s case once I’m back in Denver.”

The thought of Aurora leaving makes me feel ten times worse than anything else she just told me. She might think she’s doing me a favor by “getting out of my hair”, but I can’t think of anything worse than never seeing her again.

Fuck, I should tell her that.

I should say it right now.

But I can’t find the words. My head is too much of a mess.

“Will you be okay here by yourself for a little while?” I ask instead.

“Yes. I’ll be fine.”

She’s putting on a brave face, but it doesn’t stop me feeling like shit as I stride past her and walk out the door into the snowy morning. My heart is heavier than a mountain as I head through the trees toward the farm. As I approach the frozen lake, I hear the deep rumble of an engine nearby. A bright yellow snowplow is clearing the road outside the farm, its blade scraping against the asphalt. Soon enough, it will reach my cabin, and the last thing keeping Aurora with me will be gone.

My stomach churning, I cross the bridge and lose myself in the Christmas trees, finally stopping to sit at the base of a large fir. It looks just like the one Aurora picked out, the one we decorated together before dancing to Frank Sinatra and kissing in front of the fire. It was only yesterday, but it feels like a lifetime ago as I bury my head in my hands and let out a deep sigh, wondering how the best Christmas of my life went so wrong.

9

AURORA

My heart crumblesas I watch Nolan leave. He never once raised his voice at me, and somehow that feels worse than if he’d shouted. Instead of being mad at me, he’s hurt and betrayed, and I feel like the worst person in the world as I sink into a chair and rest my head on the table. All I want to do is curl up and cry, but now isn’t the time for me to sit around feeling sorry for myself.

I need to fix this.

If Nolan says that Samuel’s father was intentionally excluded from the will, then I believe him. He called Samuel a con artist, and if that’s the case, the new will could be fake. But I need to prove it. I need to look over everything with fresh eyes. I found nothing last night, but I was tired then; now I’m wide awake and filled with determination.

I spread the papers out on the table, including the will that Nolan pulled out earlier. Side by side, the two wills look almost identical, aside from the date and the listed beneficiaries. But then I spot something that makes my heart stutter. My nose is almost touching the table, eyes squinting as I look from one will to the other.

The signatures.

They’re the same…almost. Both wills are signed by Nolan’s grandpa, Joseph Thorne—but there are a few subtle differences. The pressure on the letters. The swirl on the second e. The little shaky line connecting the p and the h. I’ve seen a lot of signatures in my time working for Liz, including a few forgeries. And although I’m no handwriting expert, right now, this is all I’ve got. A final Hail Mary.

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