“What’s so funny, Maisie?” her mother asked.
Maisie mumbled, “Nothing,” as she hurried out of the room.
Nick, and his laughter, followed.
Chapter Nine
NICK SHIELDED HIS EYESfrom the midday sun the following day. He leaned against the fence, listening to Ellie explain the difference between Douglas and Turkish firs in comparison to Noble firs, to a couple who actually seemed to be interested in the details. Pride filled his chest. She not only knew what she was talking about, she loved it.
She wasn’t just making the tree farm work, she was excelling. They’d lost their mother together; a woman who made it clear time and again thattheywere not her priority. At least, until Nick was drafted. Then, he wasn’t a priority so much as a meal ticket. Growing up, their mother complained about how they limited her life and potential.
Nick didn’t miss her but he worried that Ellie might. He’d given up trying to win his mother’s approval the first time she tried to extort money from him, early in his career. When she was alive, heworried about Ellie. When she’d died, he worried about Ellie. But it was his sister pulling herself up, dusting herself off after her divorce, losing her mother, and uprooting her life.
In comparison, he’d shut the world out; stopped seeing friends, letting Maisie disappear. He went to practice, work, talked to Ellie and Asher on FaceTime, and that was it. His whole life. Until he lost his thin grasp on control when a reporter made some comments about his recently divorced, very attractive sister when she’d come out to San Jose for a game. The guy had followed that up with a question about his mom’s passing. He’d told the guy to fuck off, which in and of itself was out of character for the guy who reporters called the Quiet King because he refused to give interviews. The reporter jumped on the crack in Nick’s usually composed façade with more questions and comments until Nick grabbed his phone, which he’d been using to record, and tossed it on the cement. Not his finest moment. He could say that about a lot of moments lately.
The customer Ellie helped went with one of the employees who would carry the tree—a Noble fir?—out to their waiting truck. Asher came running over with a dollar bill in his little mitt, waving it madly.
“Uncle Nick. I got a tip,” he said, his little boots sliding more than lifting.
Nick held out a fist and Asher bumped it as much as he could in an oversized mitt.
Ellie walked their way. She wore a thigh-length plaid jacket, an off-white knit cap, and a pair of black boots with fur trim. He wasn’t sure if she looked like she belonged here as the owner or the poster model. He knew she had more than a few guys knocking on her door. She was beautiful and funny and a wonderful mother. He hated the thought of her being hurt again. His counselor said his injury had highlighted his realization that bad things could happen without warning. He’d seen plenty of evidence of that even before he blew his knee. But maybe his mom dying and Ellie’s marriage ending alsohighlighted the fact that nothing lasted forever. And his injury had shone a big fucking spotlight onthat.
Nick picked Asher up, settled him on his hip. “You must have been a good helper.”
“He’s a great helper. I might have to start paying him to work here all the time.”
Asher nuzzled into Nick’s neck—his face shockingly cold—and shook his head. “And I’m gonna be a hockey player like Uncle Nicky.”
Ellie looked amused and he wondered, in that moment, if she ever resented him going away, leaving her behind.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Ellie asked, scrunching her nose at him.
“No reason. I’m just glad I get to hang with you guys. I miss you when I’m not around.”
Asher ran his little fingers over Nick’s beard absently. Nick ate up the affection. He was grappling with some hard choices. He and Ellie could talk about anything but there wasn’t always a good time. And while he was soaking up the time and attention from his nephew, he didn’t want to lay it all out. After the holidays would be soon enough for Nick to talk to his sister about his next steps.
“You are getting up there, you know. You’ll have to retire one day. When you do, you could think about where to settle down,” she said casually, like she hadn’t just read his mind.
He stared at her even as they started walking toward the exit of the mostly fenced U-pick area. From what he’d learned, a handful of trees were cut each morning, depending on projected need. Staff took people out to cut their own unless they didn’t want a guide. There were sleigh rides, snacks, photo opportunities, a path of lights that seemed popular in the evenings, and a scavenger hunt or bingo card game for the kids.
Ellie must have misunderstood his silence. She held up her hands. “Or not. I mean, you are Nick King. You could play forever.”
Asher squirmed in his arms so he set him down. He grabbed Nick’s hand. “We’re going to the gift shop.”
“Bob was saying you put in pretty long hours this season.”
She grinned and he recognized the little-sister-brat look. No matter how old she got, it would always exist. “Some of us work for more than three twenty-minute periods.”
He gave her a playful push. “Making it sosomeof us don’t have to work at all.”
Ellie laughed. “Right. Because I wouldn’t get bored doing nothing?”
He thought about that but it was more. “Plus, you love it and you’re really good at it.”
They wandered the gravel path from one area to the next. There were three outbuildings but only two were used. One as a gift shop and concession stand. The other was currently being used for storage. As they passed the third, which looked like a barn with a rounded roof, Ellie pointed to it.
“The previous owners stopped doing events here but I was thinking that if I fix up that space, I could maybe keep this place open more through the year. Maisie’s already taken some amazing photos and she suggested it would be a wonderful site for weddings and parties.”
