Believe (8 page)

“I need to get home.” The demand sounds petulant, like a pouting child. I can't look at Nick for fear of what I'll see on his face.

“Let me see if the storm's let up,” he says quietly. I can't read anything in his voice, but I imagine he's confused. I know I am.

Nick unfolds himself from the sofa, and instead of sighing with relief at his exit, I feel guilty for ruining such a perfect moment. Am I trying to punish him? Or am I trying to punish myself?

A few moments later, Nick comes back. I look at him expectantly. He shakes his head. “It looks like we'll be stuck here tonight. The storm's really picked up. You should probably call your grandmother and let her know.”

 

Gran says she understands and trusts me implicitly. Then she asks to talk to Nick, which I take to mean she doesn't trust him as much. This both excites me and unnerves me.

Now I sit in a pair of Nick's old flannel pajamas, trying to decide how I feel. The fact that these pajamas smell like Nick makes my head swim with thoughts that aren't exactly pure. Luckily I'm sure I'm as unattractive as a moldy piece of cheese. Flannel is not flattering. Still…cinnamon, pine needles, and the faintest scent of wood smoke. Could there be anything more Christmasy than that? I try to curb my doubts and focus on how right Nick is for the role…and how much I'm starting to like him.

My feelings are running too deep. I remember being like this with Johan. That's why I thought I was in love with the fool.

Nick strolls into the room in another pair of worn flannel pajamas. I'm wrong. Flannel pajamas are totally sexy. My stomach does a flip-flop. He tosses another log onto the fire, sending embers spiraling up the chimney. He quirks a smile in my direction.

"Are you hungry?"

I blink as it takes me a moment to process his words. Apparently I can't get past how good he looks in those pajamas. But when his question sinks in, I realize I'm starving. "Definitely. But is there anything to eat here? Besides popcorn, I mean."

"Oh yeah. Mom keeps this place stocked. She and Dad come out here all the time to get away." He heads into the kitchen. Should I get up to follow him? The decision between the warm comfy couch and Nick's company isn't all that hard, and I push myself off the squishy cushions.

In the kitchen I take a place on a stool near the breakfast bar and watch as Nick opens the refrigerator. He rummages through various cabinets, setting a whole range of ingredients on the counter. I'm not sure what he intends to make.

"How about some quesadillas?"

I laugh. Nick gives me a funny look. Of course he wouldn't know that Mexican food is a rare delicacy at the North Pole. We stick closer to traditional meat and potato type dishes with a hefty dose of sugar thrown in. But every once in awhile, my mom will sneak in something more exotic like Mexican or Japanese. And oh do I love Mexican food.

"Sorry," I say, still grinning. "I love Mexican food. Quesadillas sound great. Is there anything I can do to help?"

Nick shakes his head. "You're my guest and I got you stuck here for the night so the least I can do is cook dinner for you."

I fidget while he sets about chopping onions and grating cheese. I'm staring at the onions when I say, "I wouldn't normally eat onions on a date."

Nick looks up, catches my eye, and gives me a sly grin. I feel the blush heating up before it appears on my cheeks. Why don't I think before I speak? Looking away, I mumble something completely incoherent even to myself. Nick chuckles. I love that sound.

"You're right. No onions for us tonight." I turn back just as he chucks them into the garbage can. Excitement flutters through my stomach.

Forcing myself to stay quiet, I listen to Nick sing Christmas carols while he browns some ground beef. When the carols come from Nick I don't mind. Before I can stop myself, my mind starts to wander to my mission and the fact that very soon Nick needs to become Santa Claus, St. Nicholas, Father Christmas, whatever he'll choose to be called.

Despite my disgust with all of this, I have to admit, he'll make a great Santa. He's warm and caring with just enough sadness in his soul to make him able to relate to a wide variety of people. I think about what Merry said the first night we met. How she knew he wasn't the real Santa but she just wanted to believe in him because she needed to believe. Now it's my turn to believe in him. Earlier he shared a little about his pain at being abandoned by his biological parents, maybe he'll be open to hearing the truth. I think I trust him. He looks up and catches me looking at him. The smile he gives me is radiant with happiness and some unspoken things that give me hope. I haven't felt this way ever. I do trust him. Totally, utterly, and completely. And even though we don't know each other that well, I think I love him.

The realization hits me hard in the stomach and sucks all the air from my lungs. As I gasp for breath, I try to rein in my thoughts. Am I crazy? How can I love someone I've barely met? We've shared a total of three sort-of dates, one insanely awkward introduction, and one heart-melting kiss. What does that add up to?

Thankfully Nick's busy at the stove and doesn't notice my internal struggle.

I can't help but let myself feel my self-imposed walls crumbling as Nick finishes our food.

"Grab some pop from the fridge; we can eat in front of the fire." He picks up two plates and waits while I hop down.

With our late dinner in hand, we set cushions and blankets on the floor in front of the fireplace and settle in. The first gooey, cheesy bite of my quesadilla nearly sends me into a swoon. "This is so good."

Nick has a mouth full of quesadilla himself, but his eyes light up in appreciation. There's no real way to go about telling Nick about our actual connection. So I don't bring it up. Instead I enjoy our dinner and our small talk and the crackling fire. Full and warm, I feel lulled into a state of near euphoria.

"I'm going to need to go check on Maizy," Nick says finally. "Hopefully the storm's died down."

I glance at the clock on the mantle, nearly midnight. And even though I can't imagine leaving the coziness of our little setup, I feel this overwhelming need to be near Nick right now.

"I'll go with you," I say, sitting up on my knees. "Let me throw on my jeans."

"Alright, I'll just get these into the sink." Nick stands and picks up our dirty dishes.

When I'm changed, I hurry to pull on my coat and boots. Thankfully my clothes had the good sense to dry nicely while we'd lounged and ate. Nick joins me a moment later, and together we peer out the front door. The wind has stopped, but a gentle snow is still falling.

Nick leads the way to the barn where we check on Maizy, cozy in her stall. We give her more food and dawdle toward the entrance. For some reason I don't want to go back inside yet. Something about the softly falling snow calls to me.

"Let's build a snowman." The words tumble out of my mouth before I know I'm thinking them.

Nick's smile widens. I swear, there have only been a few times when I haven't seen him without a smile on his face. "That's a great idea."

We hurry out of the barn, and in our rush, tumble over each other into a snow bank. Unlike earlier the cold seeping into my clothes barely registers. As we untangle our limbs from one another, Nick catches my eye. All around us the world is hushed, like it's holding its breath with me, waiting for Nick's next move.

He lifts one gloved hand to brush wayward snow off my cheek. His fingers linger, tracing the curve of my jaw, slowing drawing me toward him. Our lips hover inches apart for a breath before we start to kiss. The snow should literally melt off us for all the heat we're radiating. I want to fall into this kiss and never emerge. Everything about Nick solidifies for me in this moment. My heart crashes wildly in my chest as I reach my arms around his neck.

When we break apart, we are breathing raggedly. My first reaction is to giggle, giddy with adrenaline and the first flush of love. Does Nick feel this too?

I can barely contain my nervous energy as I look up into his eyes. "That first night we met. You asked me what that was about. I was telling the truth. We're engaged. We've been engaged since we were babies."

Something crashes down in Nick's eyes. The change is so subtle I almost miss it, but my heart is watching for any clue, any sign that he feels what I feel, so I notice. Everything beautiful from a moment earlier wobbles then starts to crumble around me. He doesn't believe me. He never will. I pull away, sinking further into the snow bank. How could I have been so stupid? Whenever I open my heart, I set myself up for pain.

Nick gets up and offers me his hand. I ignore it, struggling to stand up on my own. Brushing off the remaining snow from my jeans, I step away from Nick, fully intent on going back to the cabin. He grabs my hand before I can get very far.

"Hey, let's build that snowman," he says. I can tell that he knows I'm upset, but he doesn't actually want to talk about it. That makes me madder.

"Actually," I say snappishly, "I think I'm ready to go to bed. Which room will I be using tonight?"

Nick frowns but he doesn't say anything. We head back to the cabin in silence.

 

I don't speak to Nick until we get back to Gran's the next morning. When I woke up, stiff from sleeping in my wet clothes, Nick offered to make me breakfast. Since I had decided to give him the silent treatment, he just made eggs and toast. I had a few bites of toast and then pointedly went and sat on the sofa until he suggested taking me home.

He deserves the silent treatment. I don't care how immature I'm being. Clearly Nick isn't interested in the truth or in discussing our relationship.

In the sleigh on the way back to Gran's, I sit as far away from Nick as possible, but our legs still bump together occasionally. As Gran's house comes into sight, I push the lap blanket off and get ready to make my escape. Nick sighs. I can hear the annoyance and frustration rife in the noise.

"You're acting like a child."

My head whips around so fast I'm afraid I'll give myself whiplash. "I'm acting like a child? Don't even get me started. I was so stupid to trust you."

"Why would it be stupid to trust me?" Nick asks. "Why can't you just talk to me straight? Everything you say comes out like a riddle."

"Everything I say is true," I snap. "Just because you refuse to believe me doesn't make it any less true."

Nick slows the sleigh to a stop and I leap out. He jumps out after me. "What is this?" He's practically yelling, and I'm not entirely sure why. We don't seem to be able to communicate at all.

"Just leave me alone. I never even wanted to come here to meet you. I wouldn't have if they hadn't forced me to." I'm yelling back at him now, not caring how immature I sound. I just want to go inside and crawl into bed and forget that any of this has happened. The elf elders can turn me into a toad or send me to live with the Easter Bunny. I don't care anymore. My poor heart can't take this.

Gran appears at the door. "What on earth is going on out here?"

I rush up the steps and hurry past her.

"Who forced you to do what?" Nick calls after me.

Gran also calls my name, but I don't stop until I'm in my room with the door locked. Collapsing on the bed, I bury my face in the pillow and squeeze my eyes shut willing the tears not to come. They disobey and start leaking out the corners of my eyes. I try not to think about the look on Nick's face when I told him about our engagement. Again.

He thinks I'm a lunatic. What would have happened if I'd told him the whole story complete with Santa, his mythical, immortal parents, and elf elders?

My last thought before drifting into an exhausted sleep is, now what am I going to do?

****

Gran wakes me with a sharp knock on the door. "Virginia. Get up. What on earth happened between you and Nick? The elf elders are not happy."

That gets me out of bed faster than anything ever has before. "Are they here?" I try to peer around Gran into the hall but can't see anything in the late afternoon gloom.

"Elwyn has already come and gone." Gran enters my room and sits down at the desk chair. "Now what happened?"

I flop back onto my bed, loathe to confide my embarrassment to my grandmother but unsure what other choices I have. "Nothing, really. We had a really nice…moment, and then I tried to tell him about us. And he wouldn't believe me."

Gran taps her fingers on the desk beside her. "That doesn't sound like enough to make the elf elders take action."

"Take action?" I push myself into a sitting position, fear pulsing through my veins. "How can they take action? What'll they do to me? I didn't ask for this, you know. And no one is giving me any help here. Does anyone even realize how hard it is to tell a human about the mythical world?" My voice starts to get shrill as the fear starts to choke me.

"Take a deep breath, sweetie," Gran says, hurrying to sit beside me on the bed. "The elf elders won't do anything to you. I'm not worried about them. They talk a good game, but when it comes to action, they are seriously lacking."

"Good to know," I mutter, flopping back down on my bed.

With a pat on my arm, Gran continues, “It's really Nick's parents that worry me."

My ears perk up. Other than knowing they are the King and Queen of Winter, I don't know much about the situation. "What would they do?"

"Hmmm," Gran says. "I'm not sure. The king and queen know that there are loopholes. If you fail to convince Nick to be the new Santa Claus, the treaty becomes null and void."

"But what will they do?" I don't mean to be repetitive, but I really need to know. "Will they do something to me? Or to Nick?"

Gran shrugs. "I really don't know." She pauses, and the two of us get absorbed in our own thoughts. Finally Gran asks, "Did you mention anything to Nick about his biological parents?"

Memories from the night before flood back to me, and I have to fling my arm over my eyes so Gran can't read any of my thoughts. "No, I didn't tell him anything. He wouldn't have believed me anyway."

I don't mention that I think Nick has some unresolved bitterness toward his parents for abandoning him. He'd probably freak out if he knew the real story.

Gran lapses back into silence for so long I have to peek out from under my arm to make sure she hasn't fallen asleep or something.

Finally she says, "I need to go attend to something. Why don't you rest for a while? Do you and Nick have any plans later?"

I remove my arm completely and give Gran my most incredulous look. "Have you not listened to anything I've said? We are not getting along. There's no way I'm going out with that jerk tonight. Or any other night. I don't know what the elf elders are going to do to me, but I give up. I surrender. I'll wave the white flag. Whatever. Nick and I just aren't meant to be."

The look Gran gives me makes me want to crawl under my covers and hide. "That's enough. You and Nick will have a lovely life together. There are just some…speed bumps to work through at the moment."

Before I can say anything else, Gran leaves the room.

Deciding that it is best not to even act like there's any chance of plans for tonight, I get up and change into my pajamas. After lying down again, I fall into an uneasy sleep.

Gran wakes me sometime later with the house phone in her hand. "Nick's on the phone."

She dangles the receiver out at me. I stare at her through a fog of sleep and disbelief. "What? No. I'm not talking to him."

We are at an impasse, and suddenly I feel like I'm staring at my mother. This is the exact relationship the two of us have. Why did I think anything would be different with Gran?

But then Gran's expression eases and she hands the phone to me. "Please just talk to him."

I swallow hard and take the phone. "I really don't think I can."

"Please. He's a wonderful young man. I've known him his whole life. I promise you, sweetie, the two of you are meant for one another. Even without the treaty and the betrothal." Gran's eyes glisten. I'm afraid she might cry, so I nod.

She leaves the room just as I say hello, trying to control the frostiness in my voice.

"I don't know what I did, but I'm sorry."

Ignoring the contrite tone in his voice, I say, "You don't know what you did? Seriously?"

Nick lets out a frustrated sigh. "You are the most annoying girl I've ever met."

"I'm annoying?"

"Are we playing Twenty Questions?" Nick mimics me.

I don't know what Gran is talking about with Nick being wonderful and whatever else she'd blathered about. Was it just last night he had me believing I was in love with him?

"What do you want?" I grip the phone tighter.

"I called to apologize." He sounds sincere, but from the way he was just talking to me, I'm completely confused.

"Fine, apology accepted."

Nick is silent for a moment. "Alright. So…do you want to go out tonight?"

All remnants of sleepiness shake off. Is he stupid? Does he really think he can just call and apologize for something that he has no idea what he did? Apparently the answer to that is yes. "No," I say. "No, I don't want to go out tonight. I'm already in my pajamas."

"Okay, well, maybe I can come over then. We can watch a movie or something." Man, is he persistent.

The floorboards creak outside my door. Gran is spying on me. Then fear shoots through me. Maybe it's not Gran, maybe it's Elwyn. So I say, "Okay, I guess that would be fine. But I get to pick the movie. And…no funny business."

Nick chuckles. "Funny business?"

I blush. "You know…like, um, kissing or anything."

"You haven't seemed to mind the kissing so far," Nick teases. "But don't worry. If you want, you can ask your grandma to chaperone."

Now he's just making me feel dumb. "Just come over here soon. I don't want to have a late night."

Nick laughs again and promises to come over soon. I hang up and sit on my bed wondering how on earth I managed to get conned into this one.

Nick arrives twenty minutes later bearing pizza and several Christmas movies. My foolish heart skitters at the sight of him when I open the door. His smile sends my pulse racing. The reasons for being mad at him suddenly seem awfully hazy.

Gran comes in to chat with us for a few minutes then excuses herself to her den where she says she's going to surf the web. I actually blush slightly at the thought of my grandmother trying to be hip, but then I realize she might actually be hipper than me. As far as Nick and I go, we choose White Christmas and settle in with our pizza.

I'm relaxing into a happy food stupor when there is a knock at the door. Nick pauses the movie, and I wait for a few moments to see if Gran will get it. When she doesn't, I shove myself off the couch and head toward the door.

My jaw drops when I see the King of Winter, The King of Winter, standing on my doorstep. His platinum blond hair sticks out against his head in sharp, icicle like spikes. He wears all white with a fur-lined cape draped around his shoulders. I assume that's more for appearance than for warmth given who he is. The blue of his eyes is warmer than I expected. I take a step back, feeling uneasy but also intensely curious. He smiles at me with a frosty smile, his trademark, and for a moment, I can see Nick in his face.

"Can I help you?" I ask, trying to keep my voice from shaking.

"You have grown into a lovely young woman," the King says. "I'm truly sorry for putting you in this position now."

Looking up I see a look of sincere regret on the King's face. Confusion races through me. In the span of three seconds he has disproven everything I was ever told about him.

"Now," he continues quietly, "I understand my son is here. Might I have a word with him?"

I nod, unable to think of anything to say. Retreating to the living room, I wonder if I should have invited the King inside, but then nix that thought. Even if he doesn't seem as evil as my parents' painted him, the fact remains that I know what he is capable of.

"Who was that?" Nick asks, pulling a pepperoni off another slice of pizza and popping it into his mouth.

I hover at the edge of the sofa, picking imaginary lint off the upholstery. "Umm...it's someone who wants to talk to you."

Nick looks surprised but doesn't ask me anything. He just swallows his food, nods and smiles, and then gets up. I watch him go, unsure what I should do now. Questions flood my mind. Why didn't Nick ask me who was at the door? And how did the King know Nick was here?

Even though I know I should give them privacy, I edge around the corner and stand just out of sight.

"Who are you?" Nick asks.

"Your true father," the King replies.

Silence reigns. The grandfather clock ticks at the end of the hall. My breathing sounds loud to my ears, so I try to slow it down, quiet it.

Finally Nick says, "Why are you here? Why now?"

The King of Winter laughs, the sound completely devoid of warmth. A chill rushes over me. He is the opposite of Nick in every way no matter how similar they look. "I needed to meet you."

"That's it? That's all the explanation you're going to offer me?" Nick sounds angry, as he has every right to be, but he also sounds...bewildered.

The King paces. "Things are so complicated." With a sigh, the King stops. "Your mother and I were forced to give you up when you were a baby."

Forced? That doesn't seem like what I've been told. Apparently Nick doesn't like the way that sounds either because he asks about it through clenched teeth.

"We gave you up for your own safety," the King persists.

Now Nick is pacing the short distance of our hallway, kicking the doorjamb. "What do you want from me now?"

"I wanted to meet you before you take on your new role," the King says, his voice quiet and full of barely contained emotion. My heart actually goes out to him for a moment.

"I don't understand," Nick says.

With a resigned sigh, the King says, "I see things aren't progressing. Just trust this, my son, in the next few weeks you will have to make a choice that will change everything. You and I will become enemies. I simply wanted to meet you before that happened."

Nick stops pacing. "I still don't understand, but I appreciate that you're here. But why now?"

"I told you—”

"No, no, I got that part," Nick interrupts. "You've had my entire life."

"I see that we have reached an impasse, my son. Please forgive my intrusion." The King leaves as suddenly as he appeared.

Nick remains in the front hall with the door open. A draft swirls around me as I step out from my hiding place.

Glancing back at me, Nick asks, "Were you eavesdropping? What did you hear?"

"Everything," I admit. "I'm sorry."

"No, I'm glad you heard all that too. Maybe you can help me figure out what just happened." Slowly he shuts the door and turns to face me. "Did you know about him? I mean, who my biological father was—is?"

Reluctantly I nod, my head bobbing slowly up and down. "I knew, but I didn't invite him here tonight or anything, if that's what you're thinking."

"What are you getting defensive about?" Nick asks, running a weary hand through his hair. "You aren't the one that got ambushed by some nutcase who claims to be your father."

"But that was your father," I say. "I can guarantee that. I just don't understand anything he said. Not really anyway. He isn't anything like what I've heard."

“How do you know so much about him?” Nick asks as he leans heavily against the closed front door.

He looks so weary my heart squeezes with sympathy for him. I know now isn't the time to bring everything up again, but he's asking for an explanation. I swallow while debating how much to tell him now.

“He's from the world I come from.” That's all I can think to say.

Nick exhales noisily and slides to the floor. He closes his eyes and lets his head sag back against the door. I sink to my knees beside him. He looks so defeated. Slipping my hand onto his knee, I decide now is the time to tell him the full truth. No matter what happens.

“Here's the thing,” I say, the words feeling garbled in my throat. “You asked me before what the whole you needing to marry me thing was about. I wasn't ready to tell you because it's all so absurd.”

“And you're ready to tell me now?” Nick opens his eyes a crack and regards me with an expression I can't quite read.

With a deep breath, I nod. “I have to. Your father has shown up. It's only a matter of time before others do. Just…just promise me you'll listen to everything I have to say before you say anything.”

Nick shifts his jaw from side to side. I can tell he's thinking about it. Finally he nods.

We sit in silence for a few moments while I gather my thoughts. The grandfather clock at the end of the hall ticks in the background. Absently I rub my thumb over the fraying material on the knee of Nick's jeans. He reaches out and stops me. Our eyes meet and I see something there that I read as desire. My stomach flutters. Nick doesn't let go of my hand.

“When we were babies our parents were at war with each other. Literally. Your father's kingdom was ready to obliterate my father's world so that he would have sole control over the winter season.” I pause, staring at the way Nick's large hand has engulfed mine. I can't bring myself to look up into his eyes. “So instead of that happening, they made a treaty to have us betrothed. Then the two families would share the ruling power.”

“You've lost me,” Nick sighs.

I sigh too. “Great. Look, here's what you need to know. Your mother and father are the King and Queen of Winter. Big K, big Q. Sometimes people call your father Jack Frost, but that doesn't change who he is. My father is St. Nicholas, Santa Claus, Father Christmas, whatever you call the big jolly guy who breaks into your house on Christmas Eve. We are engaged. The elf elders want you to replace my father. The end.”