Read Online A Yorkshire Christmas by Kate Hewitt - Free Book Online

theatrics. But the way the little girl so silently, staunchly accepted someone disappointing her made everything in Claire ache.
    “Not that busy,” she said, and saw hope dawn in both Noah and Molly’s eyes. “Where are you going to get the tree?”
    “Dad’s going to cut it down himself,” Molly said, her voice touched with pride, and Claire could have wept at the look of surprised gratitude on Noah’s face. She hadn’t heard Molly call him Dad before.
    “I’ve never cut down a tree myself,” Claire said. “Or seen someone do it. This is definitely something I can’t miss.”
    Ten minutes later, she’d driven her car back to Holly Cottage, and then piled into Noah’s Land Rover to head back to Ayesgill Farm, where they picked up an old, weathered toboggan and a coil of rope to get the tree back to the house.
    “And now,” Noah said, “time to find the perfect tree.”
    Molly skipped ahead of them as they walked in the opposite direction of Holly Cottage, across the fields towards a dark crescent of pine trees, little more than a smudge on the horizon.
    “Thank you,” Noah said in a low voice as they followed Molly, their boots sinking deep into the soft, melting snow. “You’re helping smooth the way with Molly, and I really appreciate it.”
    “It’s no bother,” Claire answered. Far from it.
    “And yet you said you wanted a quiet Christmas by yourself,” Noah reminded her. “I’m aware that snowball fights and cutting down Christmas trees isn’t exactly that.”
    “No,” Claire said after a moment.
    She turned her head to gaze out at the white, rolling fields, the sky above a pale, fragile blue. The air was so cold and crisp it hurt to take a breath. Or maybe something else was making her hurt—memory and desire, twined together.
    “You can bow out at any time,” Noah said. “Molly obviously loves having you here, but I know I need to figure this out on my own. Don’t—don’t feel obligated.”
    She turned back to him, trying to smile, to keep it light. “Even though you rescued me more than once?”
    Noah took her question seriously, his gaze resting on her. “Even so. I know it’s hard to say no to a kid, but she’s not your responsibility.”
    Ouch. Claire tried not to flinch. It was stupid to feel hurt, because, of course, Molly wasn’t her responsibility. She’d met the girl that morning. And she barely knew Noah, had no idea what was complicated about his relationship with his ex or his daughter.
    Yet already she knew she was starting to fall.
    “I’m having fun,” she finally told Noah, her voice deliberately, painfully light. “I’ll let you know when I’m not.”
    “Okay,” he said, and seemed relieved that she wasn’t being guilted into going along with him.
    If only he knew the truth, she thought with something between a sigh and a wince. If only he knew how much she really wanted to be here, to belong. Wasn’t that what she’d always been looking for? A real home. A real family.
    A real Christmas.
    *
    Noah snuck a sideways glance at Claire and wondered what she was thinking. He hated the thought that she’d come along because she pitied him, because she’d already seen how awkward his relationship with Molly was. He wanted to believe that she really was having fun, but he was afraid to believe it, because he was having fun. He couldn’t even remember when he’d last enjoyed himself like this. He’d started a snowball fight, for crying out loud. He’d done it for Molly’s sake, wanting to see her smile and hear her laugh, and yet he’d enjoyed it for his own sake, too.
    Enjoyed seeing Claire’s cheeks fill with color, hear the surprising sound of her laugh, high and clear. He was attracted to her, and probably had been since they’d first met. She was beautiful, in the elegant, restrained way of rich women. Yet when she’d laughed her cool composure had broken like a shell and he’d seen something real and warm underneath, something that