A Yorkshire Christmas (10 page)

They ate in companionable silence for a few moments, and then Molly asked what they were doing tomorrow. Noah knew the ‘they’ meant the three of them, and he wondered uneasily what Claire thought about that. He and Molly were hijacking her holiday plans. She’d said she wanted to be alone, and here she was, playing happy families, cooking dinner, and hanging ornaments.

Maybe she was just taking pity on him. The prospect made everything in him cringe. He’d had enough pity, as well as a fair amount of scorn, for the choices he’d made in life. He wasn’t about to take anymore.

“Noah?” Claire’s voice, soft and questioning, broke into the storm of his thoughts. He looked up, blinking.

“Sorry?”

“It’s just,” Claire said with a small smile, “you suddenly started frowning pretty ferociously. Molly and I wondered what you were thinking about.”

“Just thinking about checking on the animals,” Noah said quickly. He smiled at Molly, and she looked back at him uncertainly. She had a wary look in her eyes again, the way she had when she’d first come here. He’d thought that self-protective suspicion had gone, what with the snowball fight and the Christmas tree, but it was still there. Of course it was still there. Nothing changed overnight. Nothing good, anyway.

“Sorry,” he said again, and Molly asked once more what they were doing tomorrow. “Let’s leave it for now,” Noah advised, trying to keep his voice light and easy. “See what the weather’s like.”

“It’s Christmas
Eve
tomorrow,” Molly said in an aggrieved, quavering voice. “Aren’t we going to do something special?”

It was Christmas Eve
tomorrow?
Noah hadn’t even realized that, to his own shame. “What would you like to do?” he asked and then forced himself to ask another question. “Do you usually do something special with your mum?”

Molly glanced away. “Not really,” she mumbled, and Noah wished he knew more about Dani’s parenting. Not that he’d ever had a choice or say in the matter, but… it would have been good to know.

“There’s a children’s service tomorrow, at the church in the village,” Claire said. “I saw it when we drove past, going to the supermarket.”

Noah turned to Molly. “Do you want to go, Moll?”

He watched as his daughter swung her wide-eyed gaze towards Claire. “Are you going?”

Claire’s glance skittered between Noah and Molly, and his insides clenched. Talk about being put on the spot.

“Well…” she began uncertainly, and Noah jumped into the breach.

“Claire most likely has her own plans, Molly. But we can go, just the two of us.”

He almost thought he saw hurt flash across Claire’s features before her expression smoothed out. “I’ll clear the plates,” she said, and rose from the table.

Molly’s face had closed and she hunched forward, reminding him of how she’d looked yesterday, how awkward things had been between them, and how fragile they were now. Had he really thought it was that easy, that he’d toss a snowball and cut down a tree and his relationship with his daughter would be magically fixed?

It wasn’t him, he realized, that had softened Molly and made her smile. It was Claire. It was the whole package—a proper family, a real Christmas.

Things, it seemed, that Dani hadn’t given her.

“I’m going to go draw,” Molly mumbled, and slid off her chair, disappearing silently into the sitting room. Noah sat back in his chair with a weary sigh.

“Coffee?” Claire asked, a note of uncertainty in her voice. “Or I could just go, if you two want to be alone…”

“I think,” Noah said, trying for wryness, “that we definitely do not want to be alone. And I’ll make the coffee. You’ve done enough.” He rose from the table while Claire sat down, the smile she gave him uncertain but, he hoped, genuine.

He really didn’t want her to go, and not just because of how Molly had taken to her.
He’d
taken to her. Stupid and irrational as that was. He could list the reasons why starting anything with Claire Lindell was a mistake. She was clearly rich, privileged, and wouldn’t be interested in anything to do with a Yorkshire sheep farmer except, perhaps, the proverbial roll in the hay.

And what’s so wrong with that?

He fumbled with the cups he’d been retrieving from the cupboard, nearly dropping one on the floor. In the last five years on the farm, he’d had nothing remotely approaching an actual relationship, not since Dani. He wasn’t willing to risk being burned again, and especially not with someone who was like Dani in so many ways.

The only thing Claire has in common with Dani is that they’re both rich.

And if he and Claire both agreed to a fling, a one week type of thing… what, really, was the harm in that?

Not, he acknowledged, that Claire had given off any signals of wanting such a thing. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if he wanted it. Been there, done that when it came to meaningless sex. He didn’t know if he was ready to risk a relationship with anyone, but another one-night stand or temporary fling?

As attracted as he was to Claire, the prospect didn’t really appeal. What appealed was more of what they’d already been experiencing: family-like dinners, cutting down Christmas trees, laughing and talking together.

God help him.

“Penny for your thoughts.” Claire’s light voice interrupted the hurtling trajectory of his thoughts, much to his relief.

“Nothing much—”

“You’re scowling again.” She rose from the table and went to take the whistling kettle off the Aga. He hadn’t even noticed it had come to the boil. “Do you need to check on the animals? I can stay here with Molly while you do.”

“That would be great,” Noah said. He needed to clear his head, get a little space. A little perspective. “I won’t be long,” he promised, and with the coffee forgotten he practically bolted from the kitchen.

‡

A
bit bemused
by the non-conversation she’d just had with Noah, Claire tidied the kitchen, loading the dishwasher and wiping the counters. She had no idea what was going on in Noah’s head, why he’d suddenly started looking kind of ferocious, but she didn’t really think it had anything to do with the animals.

If he didn’t want her here, Claire decided, he had to let her know. She’d ask him outright. She wasn’t about to make the same mistake of insinuating herself into people’s lives again.

With that resolved, she went to find Molly. She found the girl curled up in the window seat, her knees tucked up to her chest, the Nativity set scattered around her, the pieces she’d arranged with such happy care now tumbled over, lying on their sides. Claire’s heart lurched at the sad sight.

“Molly?” She sat down next to her, righting the figure of Joseph. Molly nudged it over again with her foot.

Neither of them spoke for a moment; Claire was trying to figure out what to say. Something had gone wrong since dinner, which shouldn’t really surprise her. Clearly Molly’s living arrangement was a difficult one, and one happy day wasn’t going to make everything better.

Molly finally broke the silence. “I want to go home.”

Claire’s heart lurched again. “It’s natural to feel a little homesick when you’re in a strange place,” she said after a tiny pause. “Especially at night. Would you like me to read you a story?”

Molly gave her a look of such disdain that Claire couldn’t help but recoil a little bit. “I’m not a baby.”

“Of course you’re not,” Claire agreed. “Sorry. Stupid idea.”

“Why aren’t you coming to church with us tomorrow?” Molly asked, her lower lip trembling even as her eyes glared defiance.

“I…” Claire gazed at her helplessly. “I think your dad might enjoy some alone time, just the two of you.”

“Yeah,
right
.” Molly shook her head, her voice dripping scornful disbelief. “He’s never wanted that before.”

“Molly, I don’t know everything that’s happened between you and your dad,” Claire began carefully. “But I’m pretty sure he loves you a lot, and he’s thrilled to have you here for Christmas.” Molly just shook her head and looked away. “That doesn’t mean things won’t be weird or uncomfortable sometimes,” Claire continued doggedly. “But you just need to work through it.”

“You sound like such a
grownup
,” Molly said scathingly, and with one last shove for the poor Nativity set, the pieces tumbling onto the floor, she got up from the window seat and ran upstairs.

Claire sat, the room dark, save for the light from the fire which had burned down to embers, and wondered what she should do. Part of her was insisting this wasn’t her problem and she shouldn’t get involved, because she was, realistically, nothing to these people. She’d met them yesterday, for heaven’s sake.

And yet she still cared. More than she should, but she couldn’t deny her own feelings. But maybe, she acknowledged with a sigh, she should shut them down. It wasn’t as if any of this was going anywhere.

She heard the back door open and the already-familiar stamp of Noah’s boots as he came into the kitchen and shook the snow off. A few seconds later he appeared in the doorway of the sitting room, stopping in silence as he took in Claire’s rather dejected form on the window seat, the scattered Nativity pieces.

He moved to the fireplace and tossed a few logs onto the fire, stoking up the embers into a comforting blaze. “Let me get that coffee,” he murmured, and disappeared again.

Claire listened to him moving around the kitchen, the sounds so comforting, and leaned back against the window and closed her eyes. She felt tired and weirdly homesick; although what she missed she couldn’t say. Something, she feared, she’d never really had.

A few moments later she heard Noah’s footsteps and then felt his hand touch her shoulder. She opened her eyes, and that homesickness feeling crashed over her in a wave, for the look on his face was one of tender concern, and it made her
want
things. So many things.

“Thanks,” she murmured, and took the mug of coffee from, cradling it in her hands and letting its warmth seep into her.

“I’m sorry about Molly,” he said as he sat opposite her on the window seat.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. She’s clearly going through a tough time.”

“I’ll go up and check on her in a minute,” Noah said, “but I think she might need a little alone time. And I think you deserve an explanation.”

“An explanation?”

“Of why things are the way they are between us. Me and Molly,” Noah clarified hastily, the faintest blush touching his cheeks. Claire took a sip of coffee and wondered just how things were between them. Her and Noah.

“I went out with Molly’s mother Dani for a few years, when I was just a kid really,” Noah began in a low voice. “We weren’t a good match. I was a farmer’s kid, definitely rough around the edges, and she was from a rich family in York. Big house, private school, all of it. We met at a pub and I suppose it was love, or really, lust at first sight. She was fun and bubbly, and I wanted a good time. An escape from home, too.”

“Why did you need an escape from home?” Claire asked quietly.

“I told you and Molly my mother died when I was nine.” He gave a little shrug. “Home wasn’t that great. My father buried himself in running the farm, which was understandable because it was going under. My brother David was just trying to get out of Ledstow as fast as he could.”

“And you?” Claire asked. Noah gave her a bleak smile.

“I was trying to hold it all together, I suppose. Cooking meals, keeping the place clean, helping my father. But I was just a kid, and I didn’t manage very well. When I was eighteen I got accepted to Bishop Burton Agricultural College and had just finished my first year when I met Dani.” He was silent for a moment, seeming lost in his memories, and Claire just waited for him to gather his thoughts. “She was out of control from the beginning, but I didn’t see it.” Another silence, and Claire watched his eyes shadow and his mouth firm. He gave a slight shake of his head as he continued, “I just loved how fun she was. Everything was a game to her, an adventure. And I liked how she took me away from everything going on at home. But after a few months I started to see how she was on self-destruct mode. Drinking too much, probably using drugs, although she never did around me. Her moods, swinging from high to low and back again.” Another pause, and he let out a weary, defeated sigh. “Stealing from her parents.”

“And something happened,” Claire prompted gently when Noah didn’t seem inclined to say anything more. He nodded heavily.

“Yes, something happened. She stole a bunch of jewelry from her mother. Really expensive stuff, I don’t even know what. Family heirlooms.” He shook his head again. “I don’t even know why she did it. Her parents gave her a generous allowance, and paid for her flat while she was at university. But maybe it was never about the money. Maybe she just wanted attention. As far as I could tell, they were completely self-obsessed with themselves and their social standing.”

It was, Claire acknowledged with a hollow feeling, an all-too familiar story. Thankfully she’d never gone off the rails the way Dani seemed to have done.