Page 49 of A Hard Luck Christmas

“Is that why you’re not married—not even in a relationship?” He hadn’t told her he wasn’t in a relationship, but she couldn’t imagine he’d kiss her if he was. She knew some people would do that, but it didn’t fit Kanon. He seemed too inherently honest.

“Probably. It’s hard to commit to someone else when you’re not whole yourself.”

“Life was terrible for you when you were young, far worse than it’s ever been for me. I’m so sorry.” She’d wanted to tell him that for a long time, ever since she’d found him sleeping outside the church in the freezing cold, but she didn’t bring up that specific incident. Something told her he wouldn’t want to be reminded that she’d found him in such a condition even now.

“It’s okay. I’m sort of glad for what I went through,” he said. “It taught me that I can take care of myself even when things get hard. And so can you.”

She’d been letting fear drive her decisions, she realized. Fear of displeasing her father and ruining her only close familial relationship. Fear of getting hurt again. Fear of making the wrong decision. Fear of consequences in general.

But maybe Kanon was right. Maybe she needed to throw caution to the wind and truly live while she had the chance. “Thank you,” she said as she sat up.

“For what?”

“For telling me what I needed to hear.” She got to her feet. “I’ll get out of your way now.”

He looked at his watch. “You think your father’s gone to bed in the past twenty minutes?”

“Probably not. But I don’t want to impose on you any longer.”

“I don’t mind having you here.” He gestured at the TV. “Why don’t we watch a movie?”

She imagined walking through the door at home and having her father turn and carry his Bible into his room to show he wasn’t speaking to her, and sat down again. “That sounds good.”

Chapter Fifteen

They watched three episodes of 1923, a series written by Taylor Sheridan, an actor-turned-writer who’d once been on Sons of Anarchy. Kanon had seen 1883 and Yellowstone, two of Sheridan’s other projects, which were both related to 1923, but Patience hadn’t seen any of them. She’d told him she didn’t watch much TV. Her father monopolized the set in the living room and rarely turned on anything she found interesting, so she streamed what she wanted on her laptop in her room, often with Ari, which meant she steered away from anything that contained sex and violence.

“I typically only see what a fourteen-year-old can see,” she’d told him before the first episode started.

Given that and her religious background, he’d worried she might be shocked by some of the content, but she loved the show so much he thought she might want to stay up all night to binge the whole thing. As soon as one episode ended, she’d look over at him to see if he was up for the next. So when they finished Episode 3, he expected that same questioning glance.

Instead, she covered a yawn and slid off the bed. “I’d better get going. It’s almost midnight.”

Since the bed was the only piece of furniture positioned in front of the TV, they’d both been leaning against the headboard, propped up with pillows. But Kanon had been careful not to touch Patience. He knew after this morning that the physical attraction between them could easily get out of hand.

Still, he was reluctant to let her leave even though he knew it would finally put an end to the push-pull he’d experienced since she arrived. “You afraid Glenda’s driving by, checking up on us?” he teased.

“Nope,” she responded. “I parked around the block so she wouldn’t see my car.”

“I didn’t realize your 4Runner wasn’t right outside,” he said and got up to put on his boots.

“What are you doing?” she asked when she saw him.

“It’s late. I’m going to walk you to your car.”

“You don’t have to,” she argued. “I’ll be fine. It’s Hard Luck, after all. There’s not much crime here.”

“Bad things can happen anywhere. Why take the chance?”

She jammed one arm into her coat. “Okay. As long as you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind.”

He held the door while she finished wrapping her scarf around her neck, grabbed her computer bag and headed out. Snow was falling again, but only in light swirls that floated airily to earth.

“It’s beautiful out tonight,” she said, but it was cold. He could see her breath misting in front of her.

“I think we might get a white Christmas.”