He also helped Kara decorate her place, even though she’d told him she didn’t plan to do it since her folks wouldn’t be back by the holiday.
Still, he’d convinced her, and they had spent an entire day hanging festive lights around her place and setting up a tree that he’d chopped down for her when he’d picked out his own tree on their property.
Her irritation about him being around disappeared for the most part. Every now and then, it would surface, but he’d work through it and, with the power of flirting, he’d get her to relax.
But with each day he spent with Kara, the more dangerous flirting with her became. He knew that soon he wouldn’t be able to keep his feelings to himself. Soon, he’d have to kiss her. Soon, he’d have to show her what he felt for her.
It had been almost six months since he’d been out on a date. Even longer since he’d had sex.
He’d been helping Kara out for almost two months now. Each day, he’d helped her and held his feelings for her back. He knew it was only a matter of time before she did or said something that would cause him to lose control of his desire for her and do what he’d wanted to do for a long time—kiss her.
Deciding to let the cool evening air clear his mind, he stepped outside to see his dad collapsed on the porch.
He dialed 911 as he rushed over to check his father for a pulse. Feeling a faint one, he relayed the information to the operator and held his father until the ambulance showed up.
When they pulled away, he climbed into his truck to follow them to the hospital. As he pulled out, Kara was standing at the end of her drive, looking worried, so he pulled over.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, hugging her jacket closer to her.
“My father.” He shook his head.
“Is he?” she asked, a worried look in her eyes.
“He’s alive. I’m not sure how long he was unconscious,” he admitted.
“Want me to come along?” she asked him. At that moment, he felt his worry slip a little.
“No, thanks. We may be at the hospital all night.”
“I can check on your animals in the morning?” she offered.
He shook his head again. “Thanks, we’ve got Daryl to do all that.”
“Keep me posted. I won’t keep you.” She motioned to the road.
He started to roll up his window. “Thanks for the offer,” he said, and then he drove away.
By the time they moved his father to a private room, the doctors had already talked to him. His father’s cancer had progressed. Last time they’d given his father years. This time, it was months, weeks, or even days.
He felt like punching something. Instead, he sat in the chair next to his father’s bed and held his hand and tried to think of what life was going to be like without the old man.
Most of his friends from school had always complained about their fathers. How they couldn’t wait to get away from them after school.
Nick had never felt like that about his dad. Never. His father was the man who had shown him how to do… well, everything. Before Nick had made friends in school, he’d had his dad.
Nicholas Howe the second was and always would be Nick’s best friend. He couldn’t remember a time when Nick hadn’t looked up to the man.
Now, as he glanced down at his and his father’s hands, he wondered just when the man had gotten frail. Nick remembered these hands teaching him how to tie a rope. How to haul in a steer. How to tighten a bolt on a car or a piece of machinery they were working on. How to hammer in a nail.
A tear rolled down his nose and landed on their joined hands.
“What’s all this?” His father’s shaky voice broke him from his thoughts.
“You’re awake,” Nick said, sitting up and wiping his face with his free hand.
“Sure am. You’re soaking me, son.” His father motioned to their hands.
“Sorry, sir.” Nick smiled. “You gave me a scare.”