Page 7 of Her Christmas Lumberjack

She gives me a funny look, then focuses on the fire with a frown, avoiding my gaze as she says, “Yeah…I guess it is.”

I can almost see a wall rising up between us, just like yesterday. The same guilt is back in Aurora’s eyes, but before I can question it, she’s reaching for her trusty notepad and pen.

“I hope you don’t mind me writing stuff down like this,” she says as she turns to a fresh page. “I’m a little old-school. Prefer this to typing or recording.”

“No problem. You want some cocoa before we start?”

She smiles, the fire casting shadows on her face, softening her pretty features. “I’d like that. Thanks, Nolan.”

Fuck, I could listen to her say my name all day.

I head for the kitchen and make two mugs of cocoa before carrying them back into the living room. Aurora is leaning back in my armchair, and it strikes me how much I like having her in my cabin. Usually, the only person I let in my home is Declan. I guard my privacy fiercely, but it feels natural having Aurora sitting in my living room. It feels right.

Our fingers brush when I hand her the mug, and a bolt of electricity shoots up my arm as she takes it, thanking me. I flex my hand, my skin still tingling as I take a sip of cocoa to distract myself, sitting back down in my chair.

“So you wanted to ask me more about the farm?”

Aurora nods. “That’s right. I know you co-own it with your brother, but what about before that? Did your dad have a co-owner too?”

“My mom. He made her co-owner as soon as he inherited the farm. They ran it together.”

She jots down my words, then her eyes meet mine, gleaming like emeralds in the firelight. “Did you and Declan help out, too?”

I nod. “We grew up on the farm. The cabin by the lake was our family home—it’s my brother’s place now.”

“It must have been a great place to grow up.”

I take another sip of cocoa, buying myself time to get my emotions in check. Talking about my parents is hard, especially during the holidays, and for a moment, there’s silence except for the crackling fire and the roaring wind outside.

“It was the best,” I say eventually. “This place has so many memories. Playing hide and seek behind the Christmas trees, ice skating on the lake when it froze over. We decorated the barn for every holiday. Then, when I was about ten, Dad had the idea of turning the cornfield into a Haunted Corn Maze for Halloween. People loved it, so we kept doing it.”

I should stop talking. Aurora doesn’t need to know all this crap. But the words are flowing out of me, memories of days long past swirling through my mind.

“When my mom died, things were pretty tough. Dad was heartbroken, but he put on a brave face and kept this place going. All of us loved the farm, but my dad loved it most of all. Gave it all he had until the day he died.” I swallow hard, the memory of his passing like a poker stabbing my heart. “Honestly, I don’t know if Declan and I have what it takes. My dad was a people person. Happiest guy you ever met. He didn’t just have customers—he had friends. Knew people by name. Remembered them every year.”

I keep my gaze fixed on the fire, watching the flames dance. The heat stings my eyes, but dammit, it’s better than crying.

“We have to keep going, for Dad’s sake,” I grunt. “But right now, this place just feels like a happy memory. Something that used to be magical. It’s still home, but hell, it’s not what it used to be.”

“Oh, Nolan…”

Aurora’s voice snaps me back to reality. I blink away the past and focus on her, my heart sinking when I see the stricken expression on her face.

Dammit, why did I say all that?

“Sorry.” I run a hand over my beard, letting out a breath of frustration. “Please don’t print any of that.”

“I won’t. I promise.” She reaches out to squeeze my arm, and I’m shocked to see a sheen of tears shining in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Nolan. This is all so raw for you. I…I shouldn’t be here. I feel awful. This isn’t right.”

I can’t figure out why she looks so upset. That same guilty expression is clouding her face, and she can’t even look at me as she scrambles up from the armchair.

“Aurora, it’s fine,” I tell her, frowning as she pockets her notebook and pen. “I invited you here to interview me. You don’t need to feel bad just because I got all mushy.”

She opens her mouth to say something, then closes it again, shaking her head. I gesture to the seat she just vacated.

“How about you let me interview you for a little while?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “You can tell me about yourself, and then we’ll call it even.”

She bites her lip, looking torn. When I invited Aurora here, I hoped it would be an opportunity to learn more about her. But her walls are taller than mountains, and she says, “There’s nothing to tell. I…I’m just a journalist trying to get my big break.” She shrugs, looking anywhere but me. “Anyway, thank you for your time, Nolan. I should go”

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