Page 24 of One Chance to Stay (Bears of Firefly Valley #4)

The voice mail demanding a date had been horrific. Without easy access to a delete key, I had made a fool of myself. Leaning against the shack selling cocoa, I waited for Seamus. A man of few words, he took it to an extreme with texts. Checking my messages again, I had to laugh.

Seamus: Okay.

Firefly during the day could have been the postcard for a winter wonderland. As soon as the snow fell, I expected Santa Claus to emerge from one of the stores, a large red sack slung over his shoulder. If somebody told me he lived down the street, I’d believe them.

At night, something magical happened. As the sun vanished, a chill settled into the air, and its residents could have retreated under blankets and next to potbelly stoves radiating warmth. Hardy folk, or perhaps hearty, they came out in their overstuffed jackets, ready to play.

I stood in front of the hot cocoa shack watching an elderly couple as they tiptoed their way to the ice.

I cringed as she almost fell, her arms flailing.

He wrapped an arm around her waist, keeping her upright.

When she took to the ice, my eyes widened.

She spun around backward, picking up speed before taking a small leap.

With each trick she performed, he clapped as if he were her number one fan.

“Can I grab another mug?”

The teenager inside the shack gave me a thumbs up and went about preparing more hot chocolate. Each night, high school volunteers from the basketball team took turns making money for new uniforms. My need to keep my hands warm must have bought at least a few jerseys.

“Evening.”

The deep, gravelly voice had me smiling as I slid money across the counter.

The young man handed me my drink, piping hot with wisps of steam rising from the surface.

I turned to see Seamus wearing his overalls with a thick flannel jacket.

The neon orange hat, complete with ear flaps, a staple in Maine, made me giggle.

“Are we going hunting?”

He didn’t blink. “I don’t know what you have planned.”

“Shooting deer in the dark is not on the agenda.”

He nodded. “Good. I don’t like hunting.”

“I would think not.” Every time I imagined the fawn trying to get into his pockets for a snack, I couldn’t help but smile. What Seamus lacked in social skills, he made up for in heart. Whenever he used a monosyllabic reply, I remembered the deer. Gruff? Maybe. A secret softie? Definitely.

He watched as the woman skated literal circles around a couple of teens with hockey sticks. “Who is she?”

“Marigold.”

“Ah, yes. Marigold. How did I not know that?”

“I’m detecting sarcasm.” I shot him a stern look. “The florist. Many years ago, she wanted to be a professional ice skater.”

“What happened?”

He pointed with his chin toward the man, clapping as he took cautious steps along the ice. “She found something she loved more.”

They were an adorable couple, but I was more enraptured by the look on Seamus’s face. It fell somewhere between bitter and longing. For him, I’m not sure they were very far apart.

“Seamus Finnigan.” He came to. “Are you a softie?”

He grumbled.

“Since you’re here, I could use your help.”

“With?”

I didn’t answer as I walked along the cement path winding through the center of the green.

When he didn’t follow, I waved him along.

Shaking his head, he thrust his hands in his pockets and followed.

When he caught up, I thought about holding out my hand, seeing if he’d take the bait and hold it as we walked.

As much as I wanted to test his boundaries, I found myself insecure.

Coming to grips with our activities in the bedroom was one thing, but out in public? We both needed baby steps.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“You’re going to ask either way.”

“True.”

I waited until he spit out a muffled, “What?”

“Why live where you do? Why not a house closer to town?”

“I like my privacy.”

“You mean you like keeping people at arm’s length.”

“That, too.”

We continued until I spotted the snowmen lining the walkway.

All day, the people of Firefly had been prepping for Walter’s wedding.

Every family got together, shovels in hand, as they constructed four-foot-tall snowmen.

I thought it silly when Evelyn first told me, but I could see the hint of magic.

Walter and Audrey would walk down a path filled with snowmen made by friends and family before reaching the gazebo.

“We’re going to make a snowman.”

“Why?”

“For Walter’s wedding. He wanted everybody in town to make a snowman filled with personality.” When he didn’t speak, I took it as needing more convincing. “Whether or not you admit it, you’re part of this community.”

Harrumph.

We had reached an impasse requiring extreme measures.

I could have given him a lecture, but Seamus preferred action.

Downing the last of my hot chocolate, I crumpled the paper mug, tucking it in the pocket of my hoodie.

I stepped off the path, my foot sinking up to the knee in a snow bank.

Scooping up a handful of powder snow, I rolled it into a sphere.

“You’re either participating, or you see why the bar softball team picked me as MVP.”

As the grumble left his lips, I chucked the snowball. He didn’t have time to flinch as it struck his chest, exploding in a flurry of white. Snow covered his beard and face, a white circle imprinting in the center of his flannel. His eyes fluttered before looking down.

“Are we doing this?” His tone remained dry, and I couldn’t tell if he found it as amusing as I did. When he shook his head, snow falling from his graying beard, I lost it. I laughed loud enough that the whole town knew.

Seamus walked to the far side of the path, dipping down as he picked up a handful of snow.

He turned around, patting it into a ball.

His face remained slack, impossible to tell if his revenge came from good-natured ribbing or if he wanted me to suffer.

I prepared to run— my foot didn’t pull from the bank.

“Trapped.” He approached.

“Not fair!” I tugged, twisted, and pulled, but my shoe remained encased. Seamus took his time, stalking his victim— me . I’m the victim. “Help!”

“You know what they say about revenge?” Now he smiled! I didn’t like this one bit.

“It’s rude, and all sins should be forgiven?”

I flailed as he stepped behind me. My shoulders bunched up as I prepared for a snowball to come crashing down on my head. He moved swiftly, tugging at the waistband of my pants, dropping snow down the crack of my ass.

“Best. Served. Cold.”

I howled, my cheeks clenching as cold water dripped down my backside. It was enough to leave me frostier than the snowmen. Seamus gave my ass a good gripping, ensuring the cold reached every nook and cranny.

“You are so dead.”

Without thinking, I scooped up a handful of snow and tossed it over my shoulder. He came around, his face covered in white, two dark circles appearing as he blinked. Wrapping his arms around my waist, he pulled me from the bank, my shoe coming off in the process.

“White wash!” he yelled. Before I could protest, he stumbled on a patch of ice. Tumbling, we hit the bank, flipping on the other side in the soft, undisturbed powder. If the bruise on my backside wasn’t enough, Seamus toppled on top of me, the loose snow from his beard peppering my face.

“Wrestling’s a young man’s game,” he groaned.

The cold making my ass pucker and the snow creeping in around my neck hardly mattered as he hovered over me. Different location, but it was the same expression on his face as the other night. Even with layers of cotton between us, I’m sure he felt my excitement.

“I don’t know,” I mumbled. “You seem to do okay for an old guy.”

His lip turned up, the faintest suggestion of a smile. “Haven’t heard any complaints so far.” To my dismay, he rolled off, getting to his knees. As he stood, he held out a hand, leaning back as he lifted me off the ground.

“So…” he said, looking to the snowmen lining the walkway. “I guess we should get started.”

“First—” I hopped on one foot, pointing to my very cold foot.

“Cold will put some hair on your chest.” I prepared a list of swears. “ More hair.” When he glanced over his shoulder, flashing a grin, I bit my tongue. This was a version of Seamus I had yet to meet, and I looked forward to getting to know him.

“You smile at my misery?”

“Sometimes.”

I’d suffer if it kept that smile stapled on his face… or at least catch a cold.

My right foot teetered on the verge of numbness. We had spent the last hour rolling about in circles as we made our snowman. Now that we looked at our creation, we both leaned to the right, mimicking our less-than-stellar efforts.

“We’re bad at this,” I said.

“Yes, you are.”

I jabbed him with my elbow. “I’m not the one who wanted it to be bigger than life.” It easily stood two feet above its counterparts. It lacked the refinement of the others. Our oversized middle snowball made it appear as if our creation enjoyed a little too much cake, if there was such a thing.

“He’s a husky fellow.”

“Makes two of you.” He scoffed, amused by his own joke.

I patted Seamus on the stomach. “Three of us.”

I searched the ground for loose rocks. I found two, one double the size of the other. When I wedged them into the snowman’s head, I couldn’t help but snort. Now our burly friend had a perpetual question on his face. Considering the wedding was about to take place, it made sense.

“We make a good team,” I said. I wanted to add, “In more than one way,” but I hoped Seamus picked up on the subtext. I’d jest all day, but being mushy? That didn’t quite feel right. “Hope Walter appreciates me almost losing a foot for this.”

“He will.”