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“Good. Let’s see if he likes it.”
Noel loved his dinner. He devoured everything and then drank water from the bowl provided and, stomach full, followed Charity back outside to the fire pit in front of the barn and flopped down at her feet. They sat for a half hour watching Quinn work.
Charity didn’t know what Noel was thinking, but she was thinking she was really going to miss Quinn when he returned to Seattle. And he would return. If not before Christmas, then after. He had to get back to his routine, and the gym, and the trainer he used to keep him in shape for the upcoming season.
She tried to imagine herself in Seattle. It was a huge leap, but if she and Quinn did date, and if it did work, would he want a long distance relationship?
Would she?
And if the dating turned serious, what then?
Quinn took a photo with a man and his son and she smiled to herself, thinking he was such a lovely man. Then he glanced at her and winked and her heart turned over.
It was really cold tonight and yet he made her feel impossibly warm and tender.
Maybe it was time to admit she had feelings for him, and they weren’t the platonic kind. She didn’t view him as a buddy or a pal. When she thought of him, she just melted… there was no other way to describe it.
Quinn walked over to her, and Noel lifted his head, tail wagging as Quinn approached. “I get twenty minutes for a dinner break.”
“I’ll grab the plates of casserole,” Charity said, jumping to her feet. “You sit down and rest. I’ll be right back.”
The television was off in the family room and the downstairs was quiet. Sawyer and Jenna must have gone to bed. Charity tiptoed in to the kitchen and dished up the casserole onto paper plates, turned off the oven, grabbed plastic utensils, and headed back outside.
“I think they’ve gone to bed,” she said, handing Quinn a plate and sitting down next to him.
“Good. They need the rest.”
They ate for a few minutes in silence and then Quinn asked, “Any thoughts on that baseball Christmas tree idea?” he asked, blowing on his cocoa to cool it.
She nodded and setting her plate down, pulled out a sheet of paper from her coat pocket. It was a watercolor sketch of a tall tree covered in red, blue, and white ribbon, with baseball card ornaments, topped by a ball and glove.
“That’s pretty. Very pretty. I like it,” Quinn said, “but how are you going to hang the cards? You’re not putting a hole in them, are you?”
“No, absolutely not. Here, let me show you these pictures I found on Pinterest.” She pulled out her phone from the other pocket and opened it to her photos. “We’d put all the baseball cards in little plastic sleeves like these and attach them to the tree with a narrow red and white ribbon. See how it looks like the thread on a baseball? I have to order the ribbon but that’s not a problem. I can have it here by the end of the week, and the sleeves will make sure the signed cards won’t be hurt so they won’t affect the value.”
“Perfect.”
She went to another photo of different colored glass balls. “I’m going to shop for some red and blue balls, and see if I can find any ornaments that are shaped like stars. I think they’ll add a fun touch, because as we all know, you did play in the all-star game for years.”
She turned to yet another photo. “I’m not sure what Mr. Gallagher collected, or what you can get from the Seattle Mariner store, but if we can get a bunch of pennants, either Seattle ones, or I can even order some from the different cities you played ball in, and I will stitch them together and create a fun tree skirt.”
“Now that’s really cool. I like that.”
“If you have any bobble heads, I can make ornaments out of those. I’ll be sure not to damage them, because serious collectors will want them in excellent condition. Signed balls can go in acrylic boxes and we’d hang them from the bigger branches. And lastly, if you have an old glove you can donate, and maybe a signed ball, we will put them on the top of the tree like this, instead of the traditional angel or star.”
He nodded approvingly. “I like all of it. I do.”
“Now we just need to see what Mr. Gallagher has and then supplement with whatever you can get sent here.”
“I’ll call the Mariners’ front office tomorrow and also ask Alice to mail the box she’s been keeping for me.”
“Tomorrow, after I take Noel to the vet, I’ll order the ribbon, plastic sleeves, and acrylic boxes. If I do rush shipping they should be here almost right away.”
“Let me know how much it all costs and I’ll reimburse you.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“I want to.”
“I don’t doubt that but, Quinn, I don’t want your money. Let me do my part, okay?”
He gestured to the sketch. “It looks you’re going to be doing more than your fair share.”
“It’ll be a fun project and, honestly, it won’t take me that long. Oh, and there’s one more idea. It’s something I can do right away because I can get everything I need from the Mercantile.” She picked up her phone again and zoomed in on the photo of a tree covered in glowing lights. “See these baseball lights? They’re actually miniature white lights tucked inside ping-pong balls that have been painted to look like the threads on a baseball.”
“It’s certainly cool, but Charity, that looks like way too much work.”
“I don’t have to cover every single little light with a ball. I can do it every third or fourth light, and honestly, it shouldn’t take that much time. One evening.”
“But aren’t you also making your sister a dress for the gala?”
“Yes. But that’s not a problem. I like to be busy. If I’m home, I have to keep my hands busy.”
His lashes dropped and his gaze rested on her face. “What about you? What are you wearing to the gala?”
There was something intimate in his inspection and she felt her cheeks warm. “I don’t know yet. I’ll figure it out.”
“I hope it’s special. You deserve to feel special.”
“Because we’re hosting the Gallagher’s table?”
“Because you deserve a dress that is as beautiful as you.”
The air bottled in her lungs. For a moment she couldn’t breathe. She ducked her head, suddenly shy. “That’s very nice of you.”
“Charity,” he said.
She lifted her head to look at him. “Yes?”
“Will you go to the Mistletoe and Montana auction with me?”
Her mouth opened, closed. “We’re already cohosting.”
“Right. I know. But I’d like you to go with me. To be my date.” He lifted a brow. “What do you think?”
She hesitated, and then nodded. “Yes.” She nodded again, unable to hide her smile. “I can’t wait.”
Chapter Eight
Charity left right after dinner. By eight thirty, the parking lot was empty. At nine, Quinn turned off all the lights and music, locked up the barn, put out the fire, and left the barn key underneath the Gallaghers’ back mat.
He drove back to his place with Noel on the seat beside him, making a call to Sam Melk as he drove. His call went to voice mail but he left a short message for Sam to call him back ASAP, confident Sam would.
He then thought of Charity and how cute she’d looked when she agreed to be his date for the gala. Her shy smile made him feel like he’d just asked her to the senior prom. She made him feel so good. Spending time with her was easy. Even in Wyoming, when they knew virtually nothing about each other, Quinn had been so comfortable, and so at ease in his own skin. From the first time they talked, he’d felt like himself… just better.
For the most part, he was a happy person, because happiness was a choice. Life was short—he’d learned that one young—and he wasn’t going to waste a single day on anger, bitterness, or resentment. No, he’d focus on the good things, and the good people, and just like that, he heard Charity’s voice in his head. If I’m home, I have to keep my hands busy.
Tho
se words she’d spoken by the fire had made his chest tighten. His mom used to say the same thing. She would knit at night as they gathered in the family room, the news on for his dad, or a family-friendly show for the kids, and when she finished the dishes, and emerged from the kitchen, she’d sit in the corner of the sofa closest to his father’s chair, and knit away, needles clicking, yarn unraveling.
The click-click sound had always reassured him. It meant she was there with them. It meant she was finally off her feet and able to relax. His mom had worked harder than anyone he knew. She’d been a fantastic mother, and he’d never said it enough. But he was also sure that she knew, and that she understood just how deeply she was loved.
Moms were important. Women were important. No man should ever treat a woman badly, for any reason. In Quinn’s mind, intimidating women was nothing short of a crime.
