Page 6 of Sleigh My Heart

He silenced his phone and shoved it in his pocket. He’d deal with that tomorrow.

Then there was the other issue that stopped his heart… Mickey. His stomach dropped at the sight of those auburn curls. Thank the Army for teaching him to school his expressions. She was more beautiful than he’d remembered, and she crossed his mind often. Too often.

Nick brought his attention to the front of the room. The sea of faces blurred until the little dark-haired girl waved. Ava. His world fell into focus.

One year ago, he was on an Army base in Germany, planning where he wanted to spend his retirement. A few guys from his squad were setting up an outdoor adventure business. Nick considered joining them but wanted to be close to his daughter. Of all his options, moving back to Ashwood wasn’t even on the list, but one phone call rocketed it to the top.

Molly, his ex-wife, died in a car accident. That’s all it took to change his life.

Ava was a trooper when he moved her halfway across the world to live on an Army base with him. But she was grieving, and after a few months, it was clear. It was time to come home. Nick couldn’t do it alone. He needed family.

“Daddy!” Ava’s little hand held a candle cutout. The construction paper prop waved like a flag.

Nick couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. He sent a quick head nod, then she shifted her focus to her teacher.

Two minutes into the program and it had become clear this was a multi-holiday play. If he had any doubts, the boy with the cardboard Hanukkah dreidel on his head was a dead giveaway. That reminded him of the holidays on base. All the holidays, Christian and otherwise, celebrated together.

He should call Abe and the guys. Nick missed his Army buddies. They spent more than a few holidays together.

For the next twenty minutes, Nick tried to forget about the lack of circulation in his legs and focus on the play in front of him. The kids did a wonderful job, and Ava hammed it up with her speaking part.

The adults applauded as if it was a professional rendition of The Nutcracker at the Ordway. Nick slipped in a whistle before Ava’s teacher dismissed the class.

“Daddy, did you see me?” Ava ran up to him, throwing her arms around his waist.

“I did. You slayed it, baby.”

Praise given, she beamed, then waved at her friend.

Nick was amazed at how fast his little girl had acclimated to her new life in Ashwood.

“Can I go to Keisha’s house? They have a big hill in the back and everyone is going sledding,” she asked as she shouldered her huge backpack with the Disney princesses on the front.

“Let me talk to Keisha’s mom.” He didn’t mind her having a play date, but he needed to make sure the parents were okay with it. He may have only been a full-time parent for a year, but he was wise to the ways of little kids. Last time she was “invited” to a friend’s house, the parents had no clue until six little girls all showed up on their doorstep.

The woman in question looked up from talking with her daughter and smiled. The look on her face when she crossed to him said she was just learning about this get-together as well.

“I hear we’re having a sledding party today.” Her dark eyes laughed.

“Are you alright with that?” His focus shifted from Mrs. Washington to his daughter. Ava broke eye contact, but she didn’t fidget. Such a good little soldier. He’d have to keep a close eye on her when she hit the teenage years.

“I’m fine with it. She can come with us now if you like.”

“No, I will drop her off. We need to swing home and get her gloves. She forgot them today.”

His daughter blushed, but her little body vibrated with excitement.

They said their goodbyes and headed out to his truck.

“When we get home, you need to feed Snowball and Bandit and grab your snow gear before we go. Do you have any homework today?”

“No, Dad.” She dragged out his name. “Besides, my teacher said we might not have school tomorrow.”

He knew all about it. The weather forecast predicted a massive storm over the next few days. The schools would do digital learning days and send students’ homework via the internet. But really, it was like a snow day. When he was in school, they didn’t get days off unless ten inches of the white stuff was already on the ground.

“Dad, we need to make cookies for the bake sale on Saturday,” she said as she climbed into the truck.

“Cookies. Got it.” He slipped the key into the ignition and gave it a minute to start blowing heat before he cranked up the fan.