Christmas on 4th Street
Page 16
“I’ll go online tonight and find out what the best trees are. We need it to last a long time and look pretty. Maybe Felicia knows. She knows everything.”
He studied her. “Is this what you were like in law school? Always trying to be the best?”
“I didn’t graduate first in my class, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Number two?”
“I was third. Besides, this isn’t like that.”
“It’s a contest. It’s pretty much like that.”
Before she could answer, a little girl ran over to them. She was adorable, maybe five with shiny black hair and big eyes. She wore a thick red coat and rain boots with red polka dots on them.
“Hey, you,” Noelle said, crouching down and smiling at her. “Are you staying warm?”
“I am,” the girl said, smiling shyly. “We bought my grandma an ornament at your store. You helped me pick it out.”
“I remember,” Noelle told her. “Did you give it to her?”
The girl nodded.
“Did she like it?”
There was another smile and a quick nod. “She cried.”
“Those are the best kind of presents.”
The girl’s mother came over and took her hand. “We were in town for the long weekend with my parents,” the woman said. “Your store was wonderful. Sophie wanted you to know.”
Noelle touched the girl’s cheek. “Thank you for telling me about your grandmother, Sophie.”
“You’re welcome.”
Noelle rose and turned back to him. “Does that make you want to give the world a hug?”
“You make people happy.”
“I try. It’s not me, it’s the store, but still.”
She flung herself at him. He caught her and held on tight.
He knew she was wrong—she was the one with the special touch. Without her, The Christmas Attic was simply a collection of things. She brought it all alive. While he didn’t remember the little girl or her mother, he didn’t doubt Noelle had taken plenty of time with them. She did that with every customer. She made shopping at her store an experience.
“We’ll go up the mountain,” he told her. “Find out where the best trees are and we’ll go.”
She smiled up at him. “You’re not so tough. You pretend you’re all broody and wounded but you’re really a sweet kind of guy.”
He wanted to tell her not to believe in him, that he wasn’t a good risk. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he couldn’t have her faith. But those were words for another time, he thought, brushing his mouth against hers. A time when it wasn’t snowing on a beautiful night a few weeks before Christmas.
* * *
Gabriel walked through the cold night, grateful that the temperature would take care of any lingering desire. He’d done the gentlemanly thing—he’d walked Noelle home and left her on her doorstep without even hinting how much he wanted to go inside.
He’d read the indecision in her eyes and had known he could have easily convinced her. A few kisses and she would have started to melt. But as much as he wanted her, he needed her to be sure. To understand what the consequences would be.
A conscience was a giant pain in the ass, he thought as he turned the corner. Well, not his ass, exactly.
“Hello, Gabriel.”
An older woman appeared at his side. He would have sworn there was no one else out on this snowy night. Not this late. The bustling city tended to shut down right around nine.
The woman had white curly hair and deep blue eyes. She had to be in her sixties, but she stood straight and strong. He’d seen her before, but couldn’t remember where.
“Ma’am,” he said, no longer surprised people he’d never met knew who he was.
“I’m Mayor Marsha Tilson,” she said with a smile. “I’m glad I ran into you. I’ve been wanting to speak to you.”
She motioned to a business across the street. He peered through the snow and saw a sign that read Jo’s Bar.
“Let me buy you a coffee,” she said, already stepping off the curb. “Irish coffee,” she added with a laugh. “Nobody makes it better than Jo.”
Somehow he found himself following the woman. He told himself to stop, that he had no business going into a bar with a woman thirty years older than him. He remembered the butt pat from the other day and wondered if he was about to get into an even more awkward situation. But somehow he kept moving along at her side, answering polite questions about how he enjoyed the town.
When they stepped inside, he found he was in the strangest bar he’d ever seen. The walls were a pale purple-blue color and the big TVs had on what looked a lot like overweight people exercising on treadmills. Was this some sports show he’d missed while he’d been gone?
The mayor led him to a table in the corner. “Irish coffees, please, Jo,” she called as she pulled out a chair.
“You got it, Mayor Marsha.” The woman behind the bar chuckled. “Who are you torturing tonight?”
“Jo, I never torture anyone. You know that.”
“Sure you don’t.”
“This is Dr. Gabriel Boylan. Gideon’s brother.”
“Welcome,” Jo told him. “Don’t bother fighting her. It never works. It’s like quicksand. Relax and you’ll be fine. Struggle and you’ll end up sinking in deeper.”
The mayor draped her heavy coat over an empty chair and sat down. She wore a pale blue suit and pearls. “Jo has an imagination.”
Gabriel nodded even as he wondered if Jo was the one telling the truth. He shrugged out of his jacket, then sat across from the mayor.
She set her hands on the table and laced her fingers together. “You’re here through the holidays.”
He wasn’t sure if she was asking or telling, but he nodded anyway.
“You’re working for Noelle at The Christmas Attic. That must be a change.”
“It is.”
“Your military service must be satisfying, but extremely difficult. There are demands on the medical personnel. We talk about the PTSD the returning soldiers deal with, as we should. But you and those like you have your own internal struggles.”
“Compassion fatigue,” he said flatly.
“Yes. I’ve read about it. What you see, what you do, drains the soul. I hope you will find your stay here healing.” She smiled gently. “I wouldn’t presume to know what you’ve been through, Gabriel, but if you need someone to talk to, I have names.”
“I’m okay.”
She studied him for a second. “I think you aren’t just yet, but you will be.”
Jo appeared with their coffees. The mugs were tall and slender and made of glass. Whipped cream floated on the top. She set down the drinks. “I was heavy-handed with the whiskey.”
The mayor sighed. “You always were a good girl, Jo.”
Jo laughed. “That’s me. The best of the best.”
When she’d left, Mayor Marsha raised her mug. “To the holidays and being with those we love.”
He touched his glass to hers. “To family.”
“I have a beautiful granddaughter and two great-grandchildren,” she said. “And a grandson-in-law. I’m blessed. I understand your family is here now.”
“They’re visiting for the holidays.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Are they? I was under the impression they were thinking of a more permanent move. Maybe I misunderstood.”
Gabriel suspected the wily old lady didn’t misunderstand very much, which meant she had information he didn’t. His parents moving to Fool’s Gold? Was it possible? He tried to imagine what Gideon would think about it and couldn’t. Although he and his brother were twins, they were no longer close. Gideon had changed so much, he might welcome having family nearby.
“Noelle is very sweet,” she said, before sipping her drink.
Was that it? Did the mayor want to warn him away from Noelle? He turned the idea over in his head and found he was pleased that she had someone looking out for her. With no family around, she was on her own. He knew she had a lot of friends, but he wanted even more people on her side.
“She is.”
“The store is very special. But if you decide not to stay in the army, I don’t see you finding yourself in retail.”
“That’s true. It’s a nice break, though.”
“I’m sure it is. But you’re a doctor. It is in you to heal. Fool’s Gold’s new hospital is nearly complete. A state-of-the-art facility with a world-class trauma center.”
The statement was so unexpected, he was sure he looked like an idiot staring at her. “You want to talk to me about a job?”
“I want you to consider the possibilities. You might think we’re a sleepy little town, but we have more than our share of trauma victims. There are car accidents and sports injuries on the mountain in both winter and summer. We’ve already assembled an excellent team, including Dr. Simon Bradley. He’s a plastic surgeon who specializes in burn victims. We’re putting together a program to bring in patients from all over the world. Many of them will be from poor countries. We’re raising the money to help them here. It’s exciting work.”
“I’m not a surgeon.”
“Yes, I know. However your services are still very much needed. I would like you to meet some of the other doctors here in town. Get to know them. We’re also in the preliminary stages of putting together a search-and-rescue organization. We’re thinking that will launch in 2015. You would be a vital member of that team.”
He hadn’t seen it coming. An offer like this. Stay here? In Fool’s Gold?
“I can’t,” he said, coming to his feet.
“You don’t have to decide now,” she told him, still calm, still holding his gaze with hers.
But he wasn’t calm. His chest was tight and he felt the walls closing in on him. In the distance was the rushing sound of chaos, of the wounded. Only the mayor continued to smile at him. Which meant the only fiery noise was in his head and he had to get out of here.
“Thank you, but no,” he said, grabbing his coat.
“Of course. If you change your mind, I’m very easy to find.”
He nodded and bolted for the door. Before he got there, she called him again.
“Gabriel?”
Reluctantly, he turned back to face her.
“Tell Noelle to call me and I can help her find the very best trees.”
He swore under his breath. How had the old lady known about their tree search? How did she—
He didn’t care, he told himself as he ducked out into the night. The snow came down harder than before. It piled up on the sidewalks and coated the parked cars. It was the kind of night that drove most men indoors.
Not him, he thought as he shrugged into his coat. Tonight he would walk until he was too exhausted to remember anything. To do anything but fall into a bed and sleep without dreaming at all.
* * *
“You’re pouting,” Noelle said as Gabriel turned the truck at the stop sign.
“I’m not pouting,” he growled, keeping his gaze on the road.
“It seems like you are. And if that’s how you’re going to be, then take me back to town and I’ll drive to the trees myself.”
He continued through the intersection, then pulled to the side of the road. After putting the truck in Park, he turned to face her.
“You wouldn’t get ten feet up the mountain,” he pointed out.
“You don’t know that.”
One corner of his mouth turned up. “I’d take a bet on it.”
He looked tired, she thought, taking in the shadows under his eyes. He’d been quiet all morning, even as he’d given her the message to call Mayor Marsha about their tree search. They’d waited until Melissa arrived to head out, but he’d never seemed very happy about what they were doing.
“Aren’t you sleeping?” she asked, then took his injured hand in hers. His stitches were gone and the skin had mostly healed. “Does this still hurt?”
“I’m fine. I was out late last night.”
He’d gone out after he’d dropped her off? “Oh,” she said quietly, wondering where he’d gone and who he’d been with.
“Hey,” he said, touching her cheek. “Mayor Marsha dragged me to some bar for Irish coffee. That’s how I got the message for you to call her.”
“Are you mad about the trees? You’ve been really great to me and I don’t want to make you do something you don’t want to do.”
“I said I’d help.”
“I know that, but I need you to help from a place of joy.”
He turned back to face the front window, folded his arms across the steering wheel, then rested his head on them. He murmured something that sounded a lot like “Kill me now,” but she wasn’t exactly sure that was it.
“Gabriel?”
“A place of joy?” His voice was incredulous.
“Yes. It’s Christmas, or nearly. We’re going out into the woods to find the perfect tree, where I know it will be waiting for us. It’s snowing and beautiful and we need to have a spirit of joy.”
He turned to look at her, his expression more bemused than annoyed. “You never would have made it as a lawyer.”
“I have a feeling you’re right about that.” Or she would have gotten very good at being a lawyer and lost the wonder she felt as she looked at the soft, white snow settling all around them.
He studied her. “Is this what you were like in law school? Always trying to be the best?”
“I didn’t graduate first in my class, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Number two?”
“I was third. Besides, this isn’t like that.”
“It’s a contest. It’s pretty much like that.”
Before she could answer, a little girl ran over to them. She was adorable, maybe five with shiny black hair and big eyes. She wore a thick red coat and rain boots with red polka dots on them.
“Hey, you,” Noelle said, crouching down and smiling at her. “Are you staying warm?”
“I am,” the girl said, smiling shyly. “We bought my grandma an ornament at your store. You helped me pick it out.”
“I remember,” Noelle told her. “Did you give it to her?”
The girl nodded.
“Did she like it?”
There was another smile and a quick nod. “She cried.”
“Those are the best kind of presents.”
The girl’s mother came over and took her hand. “We were in town for the long weekend with my parents,” the woman said. “Your store was wonderful. Sophie wanted you to know.”
Noelle touched the girl’s cheek. “Thank you for telling me about your grandmother, Sophie.”
“You’re welcome.”
Noelle rose and turned back to him. “Does that make you want to give the world a hug?”
“You make people happy.”
“I try. It’s not me, it’s the store, but still.”
She flung herself at him. He caught her and held on tight.
He knew she was wrong—she was the one with the special touch. Without her, The Christmas Attic was simply a collection of things. She brought it all alive. While he didn’t remember the little girl or her mother, he didn’t doubt Noelle had taken plenty of time with them. She did that with every customer. She made shopping at her store an experience.
“We’ll go up the mountain,” he told her. “Find out where the best trees are and we’ll go.”
She smiled up at him. “You’re not so tough. You pretend you’re all broody and wounded but you’re really a sweet kind of guy.”
He wanted to tell her not to believe in him, that he wasn’t a good risk. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he couldn’t have her faith. But those were words for another time, he thought, brushing his mouth against hers. A time when it wasn’t snowing on a beautiful night a few weeks before Christmas.
* * *
Gabriel walked through the cold night, grateful that the temperature would take care of any lingering desire. He’d done the gentlemanly thing—he’d walked Noelle home and left her on her doorstep without even hinting how much he wanted to go inside.
He’d read the indecision in her eyes and had known he could have easily convinced her. A few kisses and she would have started to melt. But as much as he wanted her, he needed her to be sure. To understand what the consequences would be.
A conscience was a giant pain in the ass, he thought as he turned the corner. Well, not his ass, exactly.
“Hello, Gabriel.”
An older woman appeared at his side. He would have sworn there was no one else out on this snowy night. Not this late. The bustling city tended to shut down right around nine.
The woman had white curly hair and deep blue eyes. She had to be in her sixties, but she stood straight and strong. He’d seen her before, but couldn’t remember where.
“Ma’am,” he said, no longer surprised people he’d never met knew who he was.
“I’m Mayor Marsha Tilson,” she said with a smile. “I’m glad I ran into you. I’ve been wanting to speak to you.”
She motioned to a business across the street. He peered through the snow and saw a sign that read Jo’s Bar.
“Let me buy you a coffee,” she said, already stepping off the curb. “Irish coffee,” she added with a laugh. “Nobody makes it better than Jo.”
Somehow he found himself following the woman. He told himself to stop, that he had no business going into a bar with a woman thirty years older than him. He remembered the butt pat from the other day and wondered if he was about to get into an even more awkward situation. But somehow he kept moving along at her side, answering polite questions about how he enjoyed the town.
When they stepped inside, he found he was in the strangest bar he’d ever seen. The walls were a pale purple-blue color and the big TVs had on what looked a lot like overweight people exercising on treadmills. Was this some sports show he’d missed while he’d been gone?
The mayor led him to a table in the corner. “Irish coffees, please, Jo,” she called as she pulled out a chair.
“You got it, Mayor Marsha.” The woman behind the bar chuckled. “Who are you torturing tonight?”
“Jo, I never torture anyone. You know that.”
“Sure you don’t.”
“This is Dr. Gabriel Boylan. Gideon’s brother.”
“Welcome,” Jo told him. “Don’t bother fighting her. It never works. It’s like quicksand. Relax and you’ll be fine. Struggle and you’ll end up sinking in deeper.”
The mayor draped her heavy coat over an empty chair and sat down. She wore a pale blue suit and pearls. “Jo has an imagination.”
Gabriel nodded even as he wondered if Jo was the one telling the truth. He shrugged out of his jacket, then sat across from the mayor.
She set her hands on the table and laced her fingers together. “You’re here through the holidays.”
He wasn’t sure if she was asking or telling, but he nodded anyway.
“You’re working for Noelle at The Christmas Attic. That must be a change.”
“It is.”
“Your military service must be satisfying, but extremely difficult. There are demands on the medical personnel. We talk about the PTSD the returning soldiers deal with, as we should. But you and those like you have your own internal struggles.”
“Compassion fatigue,” he said flatly.
“Yes. I’ve read about it. What you see, what you do, drains the soul. I hope you will find your stay here healing.” She smiled gently. “I wouldn’t presume to know what you’ve been through, Gabriel, but if you need someone to talk to, I have names.”
“I’m okay.”
She studied him for a second. “I think you aren’t just yet, but you will be.”
Jo appeared with their coffees. The mugs were tall and slender and made of glass. Whipped cream floated on the top. She set down the drinks. “I was heavy-handed with the whiskey.”
The mayor sighed. “You always were a good girl, Jo.”
Jo laughed. “That’s me. The best of the best.”
When she’d left, Mayor Marsha raised her mug. “To the holidays and being with those we love.”
He touched his glass to hers. “To family.”
“I have a beautiful granddaughter and two great-grandchildren,” she said. “And a grandson-in-law. I’m blessed. I understand your family is here now.”
“They’re visiting for the holidays.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Are they? I was under the impression they were thinking of a more permanent move. Maybe I misunderstood.”
Gabriel suspected the wily old lady didn’t misunderstand very much, which meant she had information he didn’t. His parents moving to Fool’s Gold? Was it possible? He tried to imagine what Gideon would think about it and couldn’t. Although he and his brother were twins, they were no longer close. Gideon had changed so much, he might welcome having family nearby.
“Noelle is very sweet,” she said, before sipping her drink.
Was that it? Did the mayor want to warn him away from Noelle? He turned the idea over in his head and found he was pleased that she had someone looking out for her. With no family around, she was on her own. He knew she had a lot of friends, but he wanted even more people on her side.
“She is.”
“The store is very special. But if you decide not to stay in the army, I don’t see you finding yourself in retail.”
“That’s true. It’s a nice break, though.”
“I’m sure it is. But you’re a doctor. It is in you to heal. Fool’s Gold’s new hospital is nearly complete. A state-of-the-art facility with a world-class trauma center.”
The statement was so unexpected, he was sure he looked like an idiot staring at her. “You want to talk to me about a job?”
“I want you to consider the possibilities. You might think we’re a sleepy little town, but we have more than our share of trauma victims. There are car accidents and sports injuries on the mountain in both winter and summer. We’ve already assembled an excellent team, including Dr. Simon Bradley. He’s a plastic surgeon who specializes in burn victims. We’re putting together a program to bring in patients from all over the world. Many of them will be from poor countries. We’re raising the money to help them here. It’s exciting work.”
“I’m not a surgeon.”
“Yes, I know. However your services are still very much needed. I would like you to meet some of the other doctors here in town. Get to know them. We’re also in the preliminary stages of putting together a search-and-rescue organization. We’re thinking that will launch in 2015. You would be a vital member of that team.”
He hadn’t seen it coming. An offer like this. Stay here? In Fool’s Gold?
“I can’t,” he said, coming to his feet.
“You don’t have to decide now,” she told him, still calm, still holding his gaze with hers.
But he wasn’t calm. His chest was tight and he felt the walls closing in on him. In the distance was the rushing sound of chaos, of the wounded. Only the mayor continued to smile at him. Which meant the only fiery noise was in his head and he had to get out of here.
“Thank you, but no,” he said, grabbing his coat.
“Of course. If you change your mind, I’m very easy to find.”
He nodded and bolted for the door. Before he got there, she called him again.
“Gabriel?”
Reluctantly, he turned back to face her.
“Tell Noelle to call me and I can help her find the very best trees.”
He swore under his breath. How had the old lady known about their tree search? How did she—
He didn’t care, he told himself as he ducked out into the night. The snow came down harder than before. It piled up on the sidewalks and coated the parked cars. It was the kind of night that drove most men indoors.
Not him, he thought as he shrugged into his coat. Tonight he would walk until he was too exhausted to remember anything. To do anything but fall into a bed and sleep without dreaming at all.
* * *
“You’re pouting,” Noelle said as Gabriel turned the truck at the stop sign.
“I’m not pouting,” he growled, keeping his gaze on the road.
“It seems like you are. And if that’s how you’re going to be, then take me back to town and I’ll drive to the trees myself.”
He continued through the intersection, then pulled to the side of the road. After putting the truck in Park, he turned to face her.
“You wouldn’t get ten feet up the mountain,” he pointed out.
“You don’t know that.”
One corner of his mouth turned up. “I’d take a bet on it.”
He looked tired, she thought, taking in the shadows under his eyes. He’d been quiet all morning, even as he’d given her the message to call Mayor Marsha about their tree search. They’d waited until Melissa arrived to head out, but he’d never seemed very happy about what they were doing.
“Aren’t you sleeping?” she asked, then took his injured hand in hers. His stitches were gone and the skin had mostly healed. “Does this still hurt?”
“I’m fine. I was out late last night.”
He’d gone out after he’d dropped her off? “Oh,” she said quietly, wondering where he’d gone and who he’d been with.
“Hey,” he said, touching her cheek. “Mayor Marsha dragged me to some bar for Irish coffee. That’s how I got the message for you to call her.”
“Are you mad about the trees? You’ve been really great to me and I don’t want to make you do something you don’t want to do.”
“I said I’d help.”
“I know that, but I need you to help from a place of joy.”
He turned back to face the front window, folded his arms across the steering wheel, then rested his head on them. He murmured something that sounded a lot like “Kill me now,” but she wasn’t exactly sure that was it.
“Gabriel?”
“A place of joy?” His voice was incredulous.
“Yes. It’s Christmas, or nearly. We’re going out into the woods to find the perfect tree, where I know it will be waiting for us. It’s snowing and beautiful and we need to have a spirit of joy.”
He turned to look at her, his expression more bemused than annoyed. “You never would have made it as a lawyer.”
“I have a feeling you’re right about that.” Or she would have gotten very good at being a lawyer and lost the wonder she felt as she looked at the soft, white snow settling all around them.
