The Snuggle is Real (Christmas Falls: Season 2)

Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

Ford

“I need to pick up some work, so I was wondering, uh…”

I struggled to get the words out, and Logan filled in my pause. “I wish I could bring you on, but we’re barely scraping enough for the crew we’ve got.”

Logan co-owned a landscaping business that did Christmas light installations and plowing in the winter, but I didn’t expect them to need any help.

“No, I wasn’t asking for that. It’s the slow season for you too.”

“Yeah. It’s why I used to move place to place. Maybe you could commute over to Peoria for work?”

“I can’t. I, uh, I got a little girl now.”

“Oh.” His voice warmed. “Right, Griff mentioned something about a stepdaughter?”

“Yeah, my ex-wife needed me to keep her for a while.” I cleared my throat. “But Griff is actually why I called.”

“I don’t follow.”

“I heard the festival handyman might be moving on.” There was a beat of silence, and I rushed on. “It was just town gossip, and normally I’m not one to pay it much attention, but if Griff or the city were going to look for someone to pick up the slack…”

“Oh, I hadn’t heard that Mr. Jones was leaving.”

My shoulders slumped. “Maybe the gossip got it wrong.”

He hummed. “Griff would know better than me. I’ll find out what I can.”

“Thanks. And even if he’s not, if they ever need someone to fill in or be a second pair of hands, I’m here.”

“I’ll tell him. Griff loves to have a Plan B and C for when things go wrong, so he might go for that.”

I blew out a breath. That was something, at least. “Thanks.”

“Even if the festival doesn’t need help, he may know of something else. Griff knows everyone in this town. Hang in there. Something will eventually work out.”

“Thanks. Appreciate it.”

I hit the Disconnect button and threw my head back against my bedroom wall with a defeated groan.

As a roofer, I was used to being slow on work during this time of year. But usually it was just me. I could forgo the holiday hoopla, live tight for a little while, and eventually something came along just like Logan said.

This year, everything was different.

Sure, Mason wanted to help out, but I still needed to pull my weight. His organization could only do so much for Charlie.

And nothing at all for my utilities bills coming due.

The cupboard door slammed. Speak of the little angel. I couldn’t wallow in my bedroom. It was time to make dinner.

I found Charlie elbow-deep in Cheetos at the breakfast bar.

“Whoa, what’re you doing there, short stuff?” I plucked the bag out of her grasp. “You’ll ruin your dinner.”

“I was hungry, and I didn’t know if you were coming back.”

“From the bedroom?” I bent to open the freezer and pull out some chicken. “Why would you think that?”

Charlie shrugged and licked orange dust from her fingertips.

“Charlotte,” I said a little more firmly. “Does your mom go to bed without feeding you dinner?”

“She gets tired sometimes.”

My heart dropped. Jesus . LuAnne was in rehab now, but I’d missed the signs. If I had ever noticed her being a bad parent to Charlie, I would have tried to intervene. I had no rights, but I could have checked in more, maybe moved closer. Something .

“We always have stuff around to eat though,” Charlie continued, much less bothered than me. “It was fine.”

No, it wasn’t fine. But I didn’t want to upset Charlie by showing my irritation.

“Well, I like to have a proper dinner around here, okay? And I’m never going to disappear before you go to bed. I was just making some calls about a job.”

“What is your job?” Charlie asked while I put the chicken in the microwave to defrost. “You’re home a lot more than Mama.”

“Oh, uh, well…this is the slow season.” I opened the pantry to pull out a box of stuffing mix. I showed it to Charlie and she wrinkled her nose. I put it back and pulled out a box of stovetop mac-and-cheese.

Charlie gave me two thumbs-up.

Cheesy mac with chicken, it was.

“I work on roofs, and during the winter, there’s too much rain, snow, and ice for big projects. The weather is unpredictable.”

“So you get a holiday vacation like me?”

“I guess so.” I filled a saucepan with water and set it on the stove. “Not for as long though.”

“I got lots of time off,” Charlie said. “They let me leave school early to come here!”

“Lucky you,” I said with a grin.

The lawyer had informed me that they’d gotten a special dispensation with the school to cut Charlie’s year short. It hadn’t made sense to enroll her in a new school for only the few weeks she wasn’t out on holiday break. Instead, she’d brought home some schoolwork that she’d turn in when she returned.

“I usually find some little jobs to do, like clearing folks’ driveways of snow or helping paint or remodel inside. Just until spring rolls around. Then I’ll be up on the roof again.”

“Like Santa!”

I grinned as I pulled the defrosted chicken from the microwave and set about slicing it. “Guess so.”

“Do you think he’ll know to find me here?” Charlie asked, brow creasing.

“Sure, he will. Santa always knows.”

“I don’t know. One year, we had to move and Santa didn’t come. Mama said he must not have got our address updated.”

“Oh.” I fought to maintain a neutral expression as I tipped the chicken into the skillet. “Well, I’ll make sure Santa knows where you are. He’ll come this year for sure.”

Thanks to Mason.

Well, not Mason. The Holiday Hope Foundation. He was just the guy who worked there. It wasn’t as if he was personally paying my way.

My gut tightened uncomfortably. I hated being in this position. My fingers twitched with the desire to pick up the phone and tell him I could take care of my own.

Only, Charlie had missed out enough already, hadn’t she? She’d lost her mom for Christmas. I wasn’t about to cost her Santa, too.

Because maybe she’d gone without before. Maybe she didn’t expect quite as much as I’d first assumed. But she was still a kid who believed in the magic of Christmas, and I’d be damned if I took that away from her over my stupid pride.

I opened the refrigerator and pulled out broccoli. Charlie instantly wrinkled her nose. “Yuck. I don’t like it.”

“Well, you need some vegetables in your diet. Salad?”

She shook her head. “Nuh-uh. I don’t eat leaves.”

I pursed my lips, thinking for a minute. “How about peas and carrots?”

She shrugged. Close enough. I pulled the bag of frozen veggies from the freezer.

I finished up the noodles, drained them, and combined everything with a cheese sauce.

When we sat down to eat, Charlie scarfed her food like a starving urchin.

“Whoa, don’t forget to breathe,” I said with a laugh.

She finished her bite, cheeks bulging, and swallowed with the help of a gulp of milk. “Sorry. I was hungry.”

I checked the time. It was only seven-thirty, but maybe that was a bit late.

“We can have dinner earlier next time. What time did you eat with your mom?”

Charlie shrugged. “I don’t know. I think it was all different times.”

Huh. Was LuAnne being erratic or did Charlie just not pay attention? She was only seven. Either could be true.

“Well, how about we eat at 6:30 from now on. Does that sound good?”

Charlie nodded since her mouth was full again. Well, at least she wasn’t one of those picky kids who barely touched their food.

The doorbell rang just as we were finishing up.

“I’ll get it!” Charlie said, hopping from her seat at the table and racing to the door.

“Charlie! Wait?—”

She swung open the door without even asking who it was. I added one more deficit in the LuAnne parenting column.

“Hey, Charlie,” Mason said. “How are you tonight?”

“Hi, Mason! We were just eating some mac-and-cheese!”

“Oh, that sounds fantastic,” Mason said. “I love mac-and-cheese.”

I snorted as I came up behind Charlie. Mason certainly put on a good show of looking amazed by my rudimentary dinner.

His lips stretched in a smile almost too wide for his face, his freckles popping under the porch lights.

A thick knitted scarf—looking awfully similar to some of the ones Dottie and her friends made—wound around his neck above a purple wool coat.

I didn’t see many men in purple, but Mason pulled it off.

He was also shivering.

I stepped back. “Come in from the cold.”

“Thanks.” He wiped his feet on the welcome mat and stepped inside. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your dinner.”

“Don’t worry about it. We were pretty much done.” My gaze dropped to the basket in his hands. “What have you got there?”

“Christmas cookies,” Mason said, thrusting the basket into my hands. “Plus, a decorating kit. While we were at the parade, you mentioned you used to do them with your mom as a kid.”

“Oh.” I looked into the basket, spotting a dozen cookies shaped like Christmas trees, stars, and snowmen, plus tubes of frosting and jars of sprinkles. “Well, you didn’t need to do this. I mean, this is hardly something we need. ”

I pushed the basket back toward him.

Mason tucked his hands behind his back, refusing to take it. “They were donated by Ginger’s Breads. They’ll just go to waste if you don’t accept them.”

“Can we, Ford?” Charlie asked, going up on her tiptoes to peek in the basket. “I want a cookie!”

“It is just in time for dessert,” Mason teased.

“Please, Ford?” Charlie asked, big brown eyes gazing at me hopefully. “We can all decorate cookies together!”

Mason stammered, color rising in his cheeks. “Oh, I didn’t mean— That is, this isn’t for me. I’m just the delivery guy. Like Santa.”

“You don’t look much like Santa,” Charlie pointed out.

He chuckled. “You’re right. His elf then. I wear green really well.”

She giggled. “You do look like an elf!”

Mason shot me a pained smile. “Exactly. I better get back to the workshop.”

“Stay,” I said brusquely.

Mason hesitated. “What?”

I shrugged. “Like you keep saying, all this is for Charlie.”

He glanced at Charlie, who was nodding eagerly. “Well, I guess I could stay for a bit…”

“Unless you’ve got somewhere better to be,” I said, suddenly unsure. “Do you have family in Christmas Falls?”

“No, I moved here for the job. It’s just me and Pepper.”

“Who is that? A girlfriend?”

Mason laughed. “Uh, no. I don’t date women.”

“Oh, right.” The tips of my ears went hot, remembering that I’d seen him drooling over the male Hallmark star. “I forgot.”

“Pepper is my dog,” he said.

Charlie perked up. “You have a dog? A real one? I got one too, but it’s stuffed.”

“A real live one,” he said with a smile. “It’s just for a little while. I’m fostering.” At Charlie’s blank look, he added, “It means I’m keeping him temporarily because he needs a home.”

“Oh.” She brightened. “So just like me. Ford is fostering me.”

“You’re not a stray, Charlie,” I said, dropping my arm around her shoulders. “You’re the best gift I’ve gotten this year.”

“I’m not a gift,” she said with a giggle.

But she was damn wrong. Since I’d gotten the call to pick her up, my heart had twisted with worry, twinged with heartache, and swelled with love.

Maybe the circumstances weren’t ideal, but I loved this little girl something fierce. And I wouldn’t trade in this opportunity to be in her life again for anything.