Christmas on 4th Street (Fool's Gold #12.5)(41)
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.
How would her life have been different if she hadn’t gotten sick? It wasn’t a question she allowed herself to think about very much. Would she have married Jeremy? At the time she would have said yes. That he was the one. But he hadn’t stood by her and he hadn’t been willing to see her as more than damaged goods. He’d walked away so easily, she’d started to wonder if he’d ever loved her at all.
Gabriel straightened. “I can’t do the spirit of joy but I can manage an attitude of acceptance. Good enough?”
“Sure. We’ll find your joy along the way.”
“I didn’t think it was missing.”
He put the truck back in Drive and pulled out onto the road. Noelle got out the directions the mayor had given her and told him to turn at the private road three miles up Mother Bear Road.
“As long as we don’t run in to the namesake,” he muttered.
“She’s hibernating. Bears hibernate.”
“You’d better be right about that.”
They turned at the corner and then continued up the mountain. Gabriel kept track of the distance. The road had been recently plowed and they traveled easily, but when she pointed to the private road, everything changed.
Here the snow was thick and the truck moved sluggishly through the growing drifts.
“You sure about this?” he asked. “If it snows much more, we’re going to get stuck.”
She looked at the paper with the instructions. “It’s less than a quarter mile to the cabin. From there, we walk.”
“There’s a cabin?”
“Yes, for emergencies. The city owns it. Or maybe the county. The mayor says it’s kept stocked for when people get lost. She said we go directly east from the cabin for a few hundred yards and then we’ll find the trees.” She stared up at the sky. “The snow is letting up. It’s a sign.”