Page 77 of The Christmas Keepsake
Hollis had followed the trail of Duke’s blood through the kitchen and onto Pop’s back porch. He’d searched the entire backyard and beyond. Now he climbed the back porch steps and sat on one of the metal chairs. Leaning over his knees, he lowered his face into his palms, sending up the millionth silent plea to the Big Guy upstairs. Almost immediately, his phone buzzed in his pocket. No way God was on the line, answering his prayers. Hollis guessed he’d surpassed the limit of answered prayers. Instead of pulling his phone out of his pocket, he left it there to vibrate. He wasn’t in a conversing mood, and there was no one he wanted to speak to right now.
Not Sandy and surely not Matt. He knew Mallory was concerned, but he didn’t want to talk to her either. Ever since his earlier conversation, Hollis had been wondering if Matt was right. MaybeHollis had fooled everyone, including himself. The last thing Mallory needed was a romantic partner who would let her down. The kind of guy that Matt had painted Hollis to be. Nan was wrong. Mallory didn’t need him. She would be better off without him.
His phone buzzed again. On a sigh, he pulled it out and read the screen.
Mallory:Why didn’t you show up tonight?
Hollis reread the message.Show up?He was stumped for a moment, and then it hit him. The event at Memory Oaks. With all the stress of tonight, it’d completely slipped his mind. He got up and headed around to the front of the house in the direction of the tree farm.
His phone buzzed from within his pocket again. Instinctively, he knew who it was. “Sorry, Mal,” he whispered before inhaling deeply. He breathed in the familiar pine scent that felt like a balm to the ache inside his chest.
Pop had found Hollis when Hollis was eighteen on a kind of night similar to this one. Hollis was already living with Matt and Sandy, so he wasn’t exactly trespassing. He’d just driven his old pickup here, needing a place to think. He’d wanted to be alone, but Pop had come alongside him as he roamed these same rows.
That night, Pop began talking to Hollis’s nonreceptive ears. His weathered hands demonstrated how to check the trees for freshness, how to trim the branches just so, how to care for each tree as if it were destined for the grandest living room in the world. For the White House.
“This farm, Hollis,” Pop had said, his eyes twinkling with pride, “it’s more than just trees. It’s tradition, it’s family, it’s… magic.” He’d clapped a hand along Hollis’s shoulder blade then, his grip firm and reassuring. “And someday, son, it’ll be yours.”
Hollis hadn’t believed Pop. Not by a long shot. Promises were meant to be broken. But now, as Hollis ran his hand along the prickly branches of a Douglas fir, it wasn’t the promise that creptin around his heart like a winter chill. Broken promises weren’t the worst thing that could happen.
Hollis knew the strain the farm put on Matt when Hollis left the construction crew for the holiday season. He also knew maintaining the tree farm was more than an eight-week job. It was yearlong, and there were a hundred variables to track, including weather and pests. Pop had meant well in offering this land to Hollis, but maybe… maybe it was time for Pop to let go.
Hollis walked to the far end of the lot and stared out at the dark fields beyond. “Buster! Come! Buster!” He waited, listening for an answering bark or the sound of paws padding across the frozen ground. The only sound he heard, though, was the loud voice in his mind.
He felt like he had a choice to make, but honestly, there was no choice. Matt had now made it clear how he felt and Hollis would not do anything to hurt Matt more.
As he turned to head back, another thought struck him with the force of a physical blow. He’d watched Mallory come alive this holiday season, shifting from an overworked, overwhelmed nurse to a woman renewed. Restored. She’d always been beautiful to him, but never more than these past few weeks. Staring at her, memorizing every detail of her face, every expression… it was contagious. Addictive.
He loved that she was feeling freer and more relaxed these days, but everything he touched eventually fell apart. Some part of him wanted to argue that he was being dramatic, but just look at his life. One dog was possibly dying. The other was missing. He’d hurt the only family he’d ever known, and now, not only was he out of work in construction—because no way was Matt keeping him on the crew—but he would also be losing his job at the farm along with all the plans he’d made.
“Buster!” he called again, walking up and down the rows of trees. “Buster! Come on, boy!”
In his heart of hearts, he didn’t believe that Buster had hurtDuke. Maybe Buster had run because he was scared. Running felt like the natural thing to do when you were hurt or scared. That was exactly how Hollis felt right now. And perhaps Hollis leaving would be best for everyone.
By the time Hollis reached the front porch again, his mind was set. He’d make it clear to Pop that he couldn’t accept the generous offer of taking over the tree farm. Then he’d apologize to Matt and offer his official resignation. Considering all things, he’d also plan on moving out of Pop’s house.
He was unemployed, homeless, and dog-less. All in a day’s time.
His phone buzzed again. No doubt it was Mallory calling, but he didn’t have it in him to connect. He’d already let her down tonight by not showing up. He was also letting Nan down by breaking last year’s promise to her.
Nan hadn’t told him to kiss Mallory though. And now that Matt had called Hollis’s character into question, he wondered if he’d unintentionally taken advantage of her vulnerability. Pulling in a deep breath, he suddenly reflected on himself from a different point of view than the one he’d come to see himself from. Maybe he wasn’t the good guy he’d worked so hard to become. Was it possible that he was still that rebellious troublemaker of the past?
Hollis tipped his face toward the sky, feeling the cold sting of a snowflake landing on his cheek. Protect Mallory from herself. That was Nan’s request. But maybe, by doing so, he also needed to protect her from him. Mallory was soaring these last couple of weeks, and he didn’t want to weigh her down. All his life, he’d told himself that real men didn’t leave the way his father had done, but perhaps, in some situations, if it meant everyone around them was better off, they did.
Pulling out his phone, he opened the latest text thread with Evan and tapped his fingertip along the screen.
Hollis:I need you to take my place in the play tomorrow. Someone can feed you the lines in your ear mic.
Evan:You’re kidding, right?
Hollis:Sorry. I’m finally cashing in on all the favors.
Evan: You okay?
Hollis stared at his phone’s screen. No, he wasn’t okay. Not even a little.
Hollis:I’m good, buddy. Thanks for the help.
Turning off his phone, he went inside Pop’s house, changed his clothing, and climbed into bed. And in the darkness of the room, he did something else he’d always thought a real man didn’t do—he cried.
