Forever Wild(37)

“Oh!” Agnes exclaims at the open door, and for a second I assume it’s Mabel, back from her ride, the sound of the snowmobile drowned out by the generator. “It’s good to see you, Roy. Calla wasn’t sure if you were coming to dinner.”

Roy is here?

Roy is actually coming to Christmas dinner?

In the split second of distraction—and shock—I skate the peeler over the corner of my thumb. I drop the carrot with a curse, assessing the stinging damage. It’s a tiny wound, though a drop of blood is already forming.

“You’re fired.” Toby hands me a paper towel and then ushers me away.

“Hey, Jonah. You mind helpin’ Roy out?” Agnes hollers.

It’s followed by Roy’s grumble of, “Don’t need help. I got it in the truck. I’ll get it out of the truck.”

Jonah spares me a curious glance on his way out.

“Have to say, never thought I’d see the day Roy accepted a dinner invitation,” Muriel muses. “What’s he up to out there, Teddy?”

Teddy frowns as he cranes his neck to see out the window from his seat. “Can’t tell. Whatever it is, it’s wrapped in a sheet.”

Commotion stirs at the door.

“Christ, Roy. How the hell did you get this into your truck by yourself?” Jonah’s muscles strain as he leads with backward steps, holding up one end of the covered object.

“It’s awkward, is all.” Roy appears on the other end, his feet shuffling along the carpet runner.

I can’t help the wide grin of pleasure that takes over my face. He’s actually wearing the navy-blue winter coat and wool aviator hat I wrapped and left at his place. They fit him well and they look much warmer than that ratty plaid jacket and raccoon hat.

Roy pauses, his attention wandering over our living room and kitchen, his eyebrows arching as he takes in the festive décor. He stalls on the set dining table before meeting my beaming smile.

His mouth curls at the corners. Only a touch. It’s enough for me, though.

“Where should this go, Roy?” Jonah asks.

“Over there.” He juts his chin toward the corner next to the fireplace.

“Here. Let me.” Jonah stoops to prop what appears to be a beam on his shoulder. With a grunt, he stands, lifting it off the ground.

“My son. The ox,” Astrid muses as Jonah carries Roy’s surprise delivery across the room. He sets it down with a dull thud.

Roy remains near the door, still in his coat and boots, his hat in his hands, looking as uncomfortable as I’ve ever seen him.

Agnes has temporarily abandoned her plan to check the cabin for Mabel, sidling up to Roy. “I don’t think you’ve had a chance to meet Astrid and Bj?rn, or Simon yet, have you?” She makes introductions.

“Sounds like you’ve been taking good care of Calla this year,” Simon says by way of greeting.

Roy smirks. “That girl don’t need any taking care of. She figures things out fine on her own.”

Simon nods, smiling to himself. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Are we doin’ this, Roy?” Jonah is holding Roy’s creation upright. It must be what Roy was working on that day I surprised him in his barn.

“Here, let me help you.” Muriel marches over to pull the sheet off.

It takes me a moment to recognize it for what it is: a mantel. A stunning, rustic wooden construct in a natural maple stain, with two pillars on either side, meant to frame the hearth.

“Always thought it was silly to have such a big stone fireplace and no mantel,” he mutters.

I stumble over a chair leg on my way around the dining table to get a better look. “I was literally thinking about this the other day.”

“Yeah, well …” Roy shifts on his feet. “I happened to take measurements when I was here in the fall, so I know it’ll fit. Should be an easy install whenever you’re ready for me to do it.”

A prickle of emotion swells in my throat, not because of the thoughtful gift, but because the man who everyone stamped too selfish to think of others was thinking of me. He’s proven them wrong, time and time again. “It’s perfect. I couldn’t have picked a more perfect mantel to go here.” I smooth a hand over the long cross beam. Where did he get such a large, beautiful piece of wood?

Toby must be thinking along the same lines. “That had to be one hell of a solid wood beam you used for this, huh, Roy?”

“I’ve had that monster in my shop for years. I was holdin’ on to it for the right project.”

It suddenly dawns on me. “Was this the beam that fell on you?” That would have crushed him, had the full weight of it not been hindered by other fallen hunks of wood.

Roy shrugs. “Still a good piece of wood.”

I shake my head, but I can’t help but laugh.

“What?” he challenges, but the way the corner of his mouth curls tells me he sees the twisted humor. Only Roy could make such a lovely gift out of something that nearly killed him.

“This is a nice surprise.” Jonah leans the mantel across the stone and then marches over to offer his hand and a solemn, “Thank you, Roy.”

Roy accepts it without hesitation.

Oh, how far you’ve come, curmudgeon. There was a time, not even a year ago, that Roy sneered at that same friendly gesture.