And talking of waking up, she decided it was time to officially declare herself awake.
She sat up, dizzy from having slept so heavily. “I passed out. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” Lynda wiped her hands on her apron. “You obviously needed the sleep.”
“It’s all the Christmas tree decorating.” Hattie slid her feet back into her boots. She wasn’t going to look at Noah. She didn’t dare. “And talking of Christmas trees, Delphi and I really should be going. The tree in the library isn’t going to decorate itself.”
“All the more reason to have something to eat first. It will give you both energy.” Lynda placed a milkshake and a cookie on the table. “We’re just having a snack. I made one for you, too.”
Lynda had made her a milkshake?
“My dad used to make the best milkshakes.” Sometimes memories stung and sometimes they soothed. This one soothed. “Takes me right back to childhood. He was heavy-handed with the chocolate.”
“Sounds as if your dad had some serious parenting skills.”
“He was the best.” Hattie sat down and watched as Noah settled Delphi in the chair next to her. Delphi drank her milkshake, holding the glass carefully with both hands. When she put the glass down she had a ring of chocolate around her mouth and a big smile on her face.
“Oh, look at the little one, covered in chocolate.” Lynda fussed over Delphi, who sat on the chair with her legs swinging. “Now then, Hattie, I was thinking that on Thursday I could come over to you and babysit. It will give me an excuse to sit quietly with a book for a while and it will give you a chance to get out and have some time to yourself. You’ve been working yourself hard. You need a break.”
Hattie froze on her chair. She hadn’t expected Lynda to be so direct. “I don’t really—”
“Noah is going to buy you dinner. He has been working hard, too, and I’m worried about him. You’d be doing me a favor.”
Noah frowned. “There’s no—”
“You don’t have to thank me. You spend all the hours taking care of the farm for us and you deserve a night out. You young things should go and enjoy yourselves. Roy and I will cope just fine, won’t we, Roy?”
Roy looked like a man who knew when he was trapped. “I’m sure I can struggle on if I put my mind to it.”
Hattie cleared her throat. “I’m fine, really. I don’t need a night off.”
Lynda gave her shoulder a squeeze. “When did you last dress up and go out?”
“Well, I—”
“Exactly, you can’t remember. You’re young, Hattie. You should be getting out there and having some adult time. Don’t you agree, Roy?”
Roy studied the cookie in his hand. “I think Hattie should probably have a say in it? Maybe she doesn’t want to go to dinner.”
“Well, of course she does. The girl has to eat, doesn’t she? And she doesn’t want to eat alone. So that’s sorted.” Lynda cleared up the glasses and loaded them into the dishwasher. “It’s bitterly cold out there and snowing again so you’re not walking home. Noah will give you a ride.”
Hattie glanced out the window and saw that it was indeed snowing. Big, fat flakes were swirling past the window and she hadn’t even noticed. She’d end up carrying Delphi, which was fine for short distances, but after a while it made her arms and her back ache. Also, she didn’t want to make Delphi’s cough worse.
Noah scooped up his keys and this time didn’t argue with his mother. “Good plan. Let’s get you both safely home.”
Hattie thanked Roy, gave Lynda a hug, and then dressed a wriggling Delphi in her coat, hat and scarf.
The moment they opened the door to the kitchen the cold air slammed into them.
Noah turned up the collar of his coat and turned to check on her but Hattie had survived enough New England winters to know how to dress for the occasion.
They stomped through the fresh snow to his car. The cold air bit through her clothing, making her long to return to the warm kitchen.
“You don’t need to do this. Delphi and I could perfectly well walk. We didn’t need rescuing.”
He opened the car door for her. “Maybe you didn’t need rescuing, but I did. If we’d stayed in that kitchen much longer my mother would have mapped out the rest of my life and not just the next week.” He lifted Delphi into the back and fastened her seat belt carefully. “You comfortable, honey?”
Delphi nodded and Noah winked at her and then waited for Hattie to get in the car before settling himself in the driver’s seat.
Here in the confines of the car she was even more aware of the size and power of him. She told herself that it was his kindness to her child that was making her feel this intense and almost painful longing.
She wondered if he was annoyed at the prospect of driving her home. “Your parents are so kind.”
“They love you. Think of you as a daughter.”
“So what does that make you—my brother?” She saw his smile flash.
“Definitely not that. And you wouldn’t want me as a brother. I’m annoying. Only child, so terrible at sharing. If there’s one piece of shortbread left on the plate, then that’s going to be mine. You wouldn’t get special treatment. I’d run right over you.”
She didn’t believe it for a moment. She already knew how generous he was. She’d seen evidence of it repeatedly.
“I’m an only child.” And she’d often wished she’d had someone to share the ups and downs of life with.
“There you go. Can you imagine the scene in the kitchen? Both of us fighting over that single piece of shortbread? It could get vicious.” He started the engine and headed down the track toward the road. “So, about dinner. What time shall I pick you up on Thursday?”
She glanced at him. “You’re not seriously going to take me to dinner?”
“If you know my mother as well as I think you know my mother, then you’ll also know that it’s going to be easier to go to dinner than to argue about it.”
Her heart kicked up its pace. “Do you always do everything your mother tells you?”
“Hardly ever,” he said. “Just the things that seem like they might be a good idea. You have been working too hard. So have I. We both need to eat.”
“I don’t know.” She pretended to think. “Are you going to fight me for my dinner?”
“That depends.”
“On?”
“On whether you order something that looks better than what’s on my plate. If I prefer yours, I might fight you. Does seven twenty-five work for you?”
“Seven twenty-five? That’s very specific.”
“My mother suggested seven-thirty. It doesn’t pay to have everything go her way.”
It would have been easy to say yes. She wanted to say yes very badly. Being with him made her feel lighter, even though the load of her life was just the same.
She tried to think through the implications. Consequences, she thought. Everything had consequences.
“I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”