Page 8 of Secret Santas and Holiday Dances

“Dang,” Lula said. “The thirteen year old just schooled us.”

Penny bowed to raucous applause. “Thank you. Thank you.”

Helena leaned closer to him. “Good because Penny is excited that you’re going.”

Another family tradition was going to the barn dance as soon as you turned thirteen. Penny was the first of his niblings to hit her teens, and everyone was excited for this tradition to start up again. The last person who’d employed the tradition had been his little sister, Lula, fourteen years ago.

He grinned at Penny, who sat next to Lula, remembering how excited Lula had been and seeing it now in his niece. Penny and Lula looked so much alike—both had the Nichols family light brown hair, blue-gray eyes, sharply defined features—and happy-go-lucky attitudes. All his siblings sported strong family genes that had been passed down to their kids—if they had them. And Liam, George, and Jenny even got the chin dimple their dad had.

“Liam,” Helena tapped his arm. “This is important.”

He shook himself out of his stupor and faced Helena. He’d already told Ryan he was going. “Why would you think I’d miss it?”

“You didn’t go last year,” she said with a shrug of her shoulder.

Last year had been his first year back in Harvest Ranch. He’d sort of blown into town just before the holidays, having left Philadelphia, his law firm there, his clients, his apartment, and his then-girlfriend turned ex in a whirl. He’d missed several of the Nichols’ family Christmas traditions last year in his desperate attempt to clean up the mess that his life had become—all the while trying to play down to his family just how bad things had gotten.

Last year had been his first-year home for Christmas in the last three years, and he’d tried and been mildly successful at participating. This was the first year in a long time that he was fully immersing himself in the family traditions after a year of fully immersing himself in all of his family’s activities, the town, and the life here. If he was being honest, all the activity, mixed with work, were a big part of the reason he’d sworn off dating, not enough time to worry about his family and a girlfriend. That and his last relationship. He shivered just thinking of it.

Still, he felt Helena’s words like a punch to the gut. He’d been home a year and thrown himself back into Harvest Ranch with everything he had, but his family still doubted how long it would last; were still waiting for some shoe to drop and for him to tell them he was leaving again.

“Helena,” he said. “I’m going to be there. Just like I’ve been there for every other family event the last year. I’m not going anywhere—ever again.”

She blinked rapidly, then a frown quickly swept over her entire countenance. She buried her face in her hands. “Oh, Liam. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean . . . I mean. I wasn’t trying to . . .”

Liam caught his dad’s gaze from across the table. Worry filled his eyes as he shot a glance at his daughter and back. Liam sighed.

“Hey, hey,” he said, and took Helena’s hands off her face. “It’s okay. I get it. But I’m here now, and tonight we’re all going to that barn dance and we’re going to show the good people of Harvest Ranch how to swing dance the Nichols family way.”

Helena laughed, then groaned. “Okay, but no sprinkler.”

Liam drew back, clasping a hand to his chest. “That’s my signature move.”

“Exactly. We don’t want to scare people away from our Christmas party, now do we?” She went back to her gingerbread house.

From across the table, his dad smiled and nodded at him. He clearly still had some convincing to do, still had to prove to his family he wasn’t leaving. He’d hoped it’d be easy because he really and truly wasn’t going anywhere. He’d done the big town, big firm, big life bit, and he’d hated every moment. He’d missed his family. Missed a lighter workload of both the hourly and emotional kind. He’d missed being able to grab a tackle box and pole on his way out to see a client and then spend the afternoon fishing after meeting with them, he’d missed actually helping people with problems, like a hole in a roof, instead of problems made of their own doing, helping the town with legal stuff for their festivals, and property cases. He’d missed everything about the small-town life, and it’d taken one very large blow to get him to not only realize it but to do something about it.

He loved Harvest Ranch, and he was never leaving it again.

But he had other fish to fry than just his problems. Sometimes worrying about Grace felt like a full-time job. She was so quiet. So reserved. So alone so often, even with her cousins around to drag her to things. This was her first Christmas in Harvest Ranch, and he wanted her to see just how awesome this town was. He decided. He would drop in her work and ask her to come one more time.

* * *

Liam parked his car behind his offices, then walked down the path between his building and Blue Shadow Cafe toward Main Street. From the lot, the shimmering Christmas lights that lit Main Street brightened the night. Every cast iron street lamp had twinkling lights wound from base to bulb, and Christmas wreaths hung from each. They had strung more lights from buildings on one side of Main to the other. Shop owners had individually decorated each building to reflect their enthusiasm for the season—lights, nativities, stars, candy canes, angels, and more. People moved in hurried steps up and down the street, and in and out of shops. Christmas music, played by loud speakers up and down Main, promised a “Holly Jolly Christmas.”

A chill nipped at Liam’s neck. He headed for the alley that would take him past his building and to Main. Metal creaked from the outside stairway leading up to his offices, making Liam slow. Who could be up there at this time of night? Not Ryan. He’d left him at his parent’s house before heading here. A tiny figure bounded down the stairs, and Liam pulled back into the shadows made by the neighboring building, Blue Shadow Cafe.

Grace came off the stairs and into a quick skip, her hair flipping up behind her. She pulled her wool coat tight about her and jogged to the entrance to the alleyway. She peeked behind her, making sure no one had seen her, and thankfully didn’t see Liam, before rushing out to Main and running across the street to Life on Canvas.

Liam let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. She knew he wasn’t in his office at this time. And she’d told him she was working from six to ten-thirty. And she was never one to take a break during an exhibit, especially one with such a high-profile celebrity artist like Davina Charles, making an appearance.

Slowly, in an almost haze, he made his way down the alley, stopping at the bottom of the stairs leading up to his office. What was she doing? He had to know. Before he’d thought it through, he bounded up the stairs, stopping just before the top landing. There, under the awning, and on the brown doormat, sat a little box, wrapped in red paper with an ornate golden bow. He stooped to pick it up; it was light, yet the significance of it weighed it down. A tag with an old-fashioned picture of Santa on one side and white back on the other fell to the side. It read “To Liam, From Santa. May the Christmas season bring you all the joy and happiness you deserve.”

Liam blinked as the full reality hit him straight on. Of course it was Grace. While the town had been throwing speculations right and left, he’d not once thought about who was leaving the gifts for people, but now that he knew, it made perfect sense. She was just the type to do it—so sweet, so thoughtful, so generous with her time and money, so giving, so not in need of attention for her seemingly random acts of kindness.

He grinned.

Grace was the Secret Santa. Looked like she had some mischief in her after all.

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