Angel's Rest(50)
“He might look, Sarah. He might even be willing to taste. But I want more than that. I deserve more than that. I won’t risk my heart for anything less.”
Sarah’s eyes widened and she drew back. “Whoa there, girlfriend. I wasn’t suggesting you fall in love with the man. I was thinking more along the lines of a kiss beneath the mistletoe.”
“Yeah, well, mistletoe can kill you.”
Sarah tilted her head and studied Nic for a long minute. “All right. What am I missing here? What aren’t you telling me?”
Nic debated how to respond. She and Sarah had a long history of sharing the highs and lows of their love lives. Ordinarily she would at least admit that something had happened, even if she didn’t provide details. This time was different. She didn’t have the words to explain what had happened yesterday even if she’d wanted to do so. Instead, she dodged the question by saying, “Believe me when I say that Gabe Callahan is unavailable. I didn’t realize just how unavailable until lately. I don’t think that sending me this text was his ham-handed way to ask me for a date. I think it’s just what he said. Gabe Callahan has left the building … and he’s neglected to take along his dog.”
The skeptical look in her best friend’s eyes told Nic that Sarah wasn’t buying her claim. “I’ll let it go for now. It is Christmas, after all. That said, I’m no dummy. I know there is more to the story of this text message than what you are telling me. Don’t think that we won’t revisit the subject.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. Now, in the meantime, speaking of mistletoe …” She nodded toward Sarah’s entry hall, where one of the more interesting residents of the county, the mountain man known by only one name—Bear—crooked his finger in an attempt to lure his woman beneath the mistletoe. Patricia Robertson, who prior to joining Bear in his yurt northeast of town had worked for NASA as an honest-to-God rocket scientist, giggled like a schoolgirl as she allowed her lover to bend her over backward in a thorough kiss.
“Isn’t love amazing? You know what Patricia told me this morning when I asked how she could stand living on the mountain in winter with only a wood stove for heat? She said all she needed was a rug, a blanket, and a Bear to keep her warm.”
“Ahhh …”
When the kiss broke up and Bear set Patricia back on her feet, they saw Sarah and Nic watching. Bear winked, and Patricia said, “Missed your chance, girls. He’s mine.”
Nic thought about that moment an hour later as she drove toward Murphy Mountain. How powerful the force must be to have compelled Patricia to abandon her career to live in the back of nowhere with a man who considered indoor plumbing a luxury. She envied those lucky enough to find it. She wondered if they realized just how blessed they were.
She wondered if Gabe considered himself blessed or cursed.
In the big scheme of things, which was worse? To have that sort of love for a short time and lose it, or never to have known that depth of love at all? Obviously the answer would be different for different people, but since Nic believed that life should be lived to the fullest, she’d rather have a great love and lose it than never experience it. Of course, what she wanted most of all was a grand love that lasted the rest of her life.
“Hey, it could happen,” she murmured aloud as she stopped at Eagle’s Way’s gate and rolled down her window to input the security code. “Just not with the likes of Gabe Callahan.”
And yet, as she continued up the drive toward the house, a subtle tension stirred within her. Could Sarah have been right? Would he be waiting for her, an apology at the ready? If so, how should she respond? What should she say? What did she want to say to him?
Except for telling him what she’d thought of his text message, Nic drew a blank. She’d have to see what he said first and go from there.
As it turned out, she need not have concerned herself with the question. Unlike yesterday, the house was dark. No smoke rose from the chimney. No Christmas carols floated on the air.
Taped to the front door, she found a folded note with her name written across the front. She yanked it off the door, opened it, and read: He’s in the mud room. Same security code as the gate. Sack of letters on the workbench. G.
“I was right the first time. He is a jerk.”
For the next week, Nic quietly fumed and tried her best to put Gabe Callahan, jerk, out of her mind. She told herself that she refused to let him ruin her holidays, so on New Year’s Eve, when she would have preferred crawling into bed early with a good book, she packed an overnight bag and joined her friends at Cavanaugh House for a previously planned event.