Chapter 4
Four
N oah grabbed the shopping bag from his kitchen counter, careful not to jostle the contents. Inside was a carefully wrapped hostess gift for Charlotte Everhart: a luxurious wicker basket filled with gourmet hot cocoa mixes, handmade marshmallows, a pair of ceramic mugs painted with wintry scenes, and a small poinsettia plant in a festive pot. He had debated over the choice for too long, but in the end, it felt like the right blend of thoughtful and seasonal. He hoped Charlotte would agree.
He shrugged on his dark wool coat and stepped outside, pulling the door shut behind him. The air in Eagle Hill was frigid, the snowbanks along the driveway gleaming in the pale light of early afternoon. As he walked to his car, the thought crossed his mind that he must be insane to have braved the mall on Christmas Eve. The place was a madhouse, a tangle of last-minute shoppers darting between stores and hauling overloaded bags.
After sliding into his truck, Noah started the engine and began the two-hour drive to Waverly Junction. The two towns couldn’t have been more different. Eagle Hill was small and quiet, with wide streets and scattered farms. Waverly Junction, on the other hand, was vibrant, especially during the holidays. As he neared the Everhart home, the snow-dusted Victorian houses lining the streets grew increasingly festive.
Charlotte’s house was the pinnacle of holiday cheer. The large Victorian stood tall and proud, painted a warm cream color with dark green trim. Its wraparound porch was draped in evergreen garlands twinkling with white lights. A towering Christmas tree sparkled in the bay window, and a cheerful wreath hung on the red front door. The driveway was already packed with cars, and the muffled sound of laughter and holiday music spilled out from inside.
Noah stepped out of his GMC, straightening his coat and smoothing the front of his tailored charcoal suit. His crisp white shirt was paired with a deep red tie, and a subtle silver tie bar added just the right touch of polish. His black leather gloves creaked as he adjusted the shopping bag in one hand and strode up the icy steps, speckled with rock salt, to the front door.
He hesitated for a moment, his hand poised to press the doorbell. Taking a steadying breath, he pressed the button, the bell’s cheerful chime echoing inside the house.
The door opened almost immediately, and Noah felt his breath catch. Standing before him was Ruth Everhart, the youngest of Charlotte’s five daughters.
Ruth was petite, with a full, curvy figure that her deep green dress seemed made to flatter. The fabric skimmed her hips and fell just below her knees, with a neckline that revealed a hint of cleavage without being too daring. The emerald shade brought out the fiery tones in her thick, wavy red hair, which framed her heart-shaped face. Her cheeks were flushed, either from the cold or the warmth inside, and her bright hazel eyes sparkled as she smiled up at him.
“Noah,” she said warmly. “You made it. Come on in!”
What a difference from the first time they met. Ruth had been frazzled and afraid as she did her best to keep Noah and other law enforcement officers fortified as they worked around the clock to find her sister Isobel, who’d been kidnapped by a madman.
Noah tried to speak but found himself momentarily struck dumb. He cleared his throat, forcing himself to focus. “Thanks, Ruth.” He stepped inside and handed her the shopping bag. “I brought this for your mom.”
She took the bag from him, her fingers brushing his gloved hand. “She’ll love it. Let me take your coat.”
As she helped him out of his coat, Noah couldn’t help but notice the faint scent of something floral—her perfume, maybe. He glanced around the foyer, taking in the festive decorations: more garlands, a cluster of poinsettias, and a small side table piled high with gifts. The house was alive with holiday energy.
Ruth hung his coat on a hook and turned back to him, her smile still in place. “Everyone’s in the living room. Mom and Alex are putting the finishing touches on dinner, but the rest of us are just catching up.”
He nodded, steeling himself for the bustling family scene he knew awaited him. “Lead the way.”
As Ruth walked ahead, her dress swaying with each step, Noah felt a flicker of arousal he hadn’t expected. This Christmas was shaping up to be more complicated—and more interesting—than he’d imagined.
* * *
Ruth couldn’t remember if she had really looked at Noah Kandor. She’d met him months ago, during one of the most harrowing times of her life, when her sister Isobel was kidnapped. Noah had joined Alex, her sister’s fiancé Brad Killian, and a host of others in the desperate search to bring Isobel home. At the time, Ruth had been too consumed with worry to notice much about anyone beyond their ability to help.
Now, though, standing beside him in her mother’s warm, bustling living room, she couldn’t help but take in the details she had missed. Noah was about forty, his dark hair neatly cut but with just enough of a wave to soften his strong jawline. His suit seemed tailor-made, the cut accentuating his broad shoulders and the slim taper to his waist. When he moved, the suit hinted at the taut strength beneath—an athletic build honed by years of discipline, not vanity.
His cologne reached her in faint, teasing waves—woodsy, with a hint of spice. It wasn’t overpowering, just enough to make her aware of him in a way that left her unsettled. She wasn’t sure if it was the warmth of the house or her proximity to him, but her cheeks felt unusually warm.
“This way,” she said, her voice steady as she led him into the living room.
The Everhart living room was as lively as ever during the holidays. Another massive Christmas tree glittered with colored lights and ornaments collected over decades. The fireplace crackled merrily, and stockings—one for each family member—were hung in a neat row. The men in the room were mostly gathered near the couch, chatting amicably while keeping half an eye on the Christmas Day basketball game playing on the mounted TV.
Ruth turned to Noah with a polite smile. “What are you drinking? We’ve got wine, beer, eggnog, or something stronger if you’d like.”
Noah smiled back, his green eyes meeting hers with a warmth that made her breath catch. “A beer would be great. Thanks.”
“Bottle or glass?
“Bottle is fine.”
She nodded and headed toward the kitchen, weaving through the cheerful jumble of her family. When she returned with a tall neck bottle of beer in hand, he stood slightly apart from the others, engaged in easy conversation with her sisters’ partners, Brad and Ethan. He held himself with a quiet confidence that made him seem effortlessly at ease.
Ruth handed him the bottle. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” His fingers brushed hers briefly as he took the beer.
Ruth stepped back, pretending to adjust a garland on the mantel while taking the opportunity to observe him from the side. He laughed at something Brad said, the sound low and rich, and the corners of his eyes crinkled in a way that softened his sharp features. She wasn’t used to feeling drawn to someone like this—unexpected, unbidden.
Before she could dwell too long on the feeling, a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts.
“Well, well,” Sophie said, sidling up beside her. Ruth turned to find her sister grinning, her hazel eyes sparkling with mischief. “I see you’ve finally noticed Noah.”
Ruth frowned, her cheeks immediately heating. “What are you talking about? I let him in.”
Sophie laughed softly. “Don’t play coy. You’ve been watching him since he walked in.” She raised an eyebrow, her grin widening. “You like him.”
Ruth’s blush deepened, and she shook her head, glancing around to make sure no one else was within earshot. “He’s… too old for me,” she muttered, her voice low.
“Too old?” Sophie repeated with a chuckle. “Ruth, look around. Every one of your sisters is with a man in his forties. Olivia’s with Jackson, who’s forty-four. Molly’s married to Ethan, and Brad’s forty-two. And Tristan and I’ve joined the club, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“That’s different,” Ruth protested, but she lacked conviction.
“Is it?” Sophie teased, giving her a pointed look. “Or are you just trying to convince yourself because he makes you nervous?”
Ruth didn’t respond, choosing instead to straighten the already perfectly aligned stockings on the mantel. She heard Sophie’s laughter as her sister walked away, leaving her alone with her racing thoughts.
Ruth stole one more glance at Noah, who was now listening intently as Alex spoke. Her chest tightened, and she turned her attention firmly away. Whatever this was, she couldn’t let herself dwell on it. Not tonight. Not ever. She had a career to focus on.
* * *
The dining room soon buzzed with the lively sounds of holiday joy. Charlotte and Alex had transformed the Everhart home into a winter wonderland, from the evergreen garlands framing the windows to the golden fairy lights twinkling overhead. The long dining table was a masterpiece of cozy elegance, set with gold-trimmed plates and crimson napkins tied neatly with sprigs of rosemary. A towering centerpiece of pine boughs, red berries, and white candles gave the room a soft, romantic glow.
The table was laden with culinary treasures. A perfectly roasted turkey took pride of place, its golden skin crackling invitingly. Surrounding it were bowls of fluffy mashed potatoes, green beans almondine, roasted Brussels sprouts with balsamic glaze, and the vibrant cranberry sauce that was the only version Ruth would eat. Freshly baked dinner rolls were piled high in a basket, their warmth still escaping into the air. On the sideboard, desserts waited like a promise: pecan pie, a chocolate Yule log, and Charlotte’s famous apple crumble.
The Everhart sisters filled the room with laughter and chatter. Olivia, the eldest, teased Charlotte as she bustled to bring everything to the table. “Mom, it’s dinner, not a photo shoot for Gourmet Holiday, ” she quipped, earning a laugh from the group.
Charlotte flushed but grinned. “It’s not my fault I like to make everything look perfect,” she teased back, motioning dramatically to the table.
Sophie, ever the instigator, leaned toward Molly. “Ten bucks says Izzy’s the first to drop food on the tablecloth.”
Molly grinned. “You’re on.”
Across the table, the significant others—Jackson, Tristan, Ethan, and Brad—laughed along with the sisters.
Jackson, a fire captain, leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. “Honestly, I could use some of this perfection at the station. Half my team can’t even toast a bagel without setting off the smoke alarm.”
Turk, a battalion chief and longtime family friend, raised an eyebrow. “Bagels? Try convincing them to have a normal conversation with someone. These new kids have zero people skills. Everything’s on their phones or some app.”
“That’s why you have us ‘old guys,’” Jackson shot back, smirking.
“Speak for yourself,” Turk replied. “I’m still the picture of youthful charm.”
The group erupted into laughter, with Ruth raising her glass. “To youthful charm,” she toasted, her grin infectious.
* * *
Noah, sitting a few seats down, found himself smiling along but only half listening. His focus kept drifting back to Ruth. She was twenty-six—a full fourteen years younger than his forty—but tonight, she seemed ageless, her confidence and wit making her stand out even in a room full of charismatic people. With her emerald dress and gold necklace, the way the candlelight played on her skin made her look like she belonged in one of those old oil paintings he’d seen in museums.
Noah’s gaze lingered as she sipped her wine, her lips curving into a soft smile as she laughed at one of Molly’s jokes. Molly and Ethan’s baby, Wyatt, slept nearby despite the noise.
She’s stunning , he thought, then immediately chastised himself. Ruth was smart, ambitious, and likely not interested in someone like him—an investigator who spent more time working than living. Still, the thought nagged at him.
“You’re awfully quiet over there, Noah.” Isobel’s voice snapped him out of his reverie. Seated beside him, the psychologist looked well considering her kidnapping and hospitalization four months earlier. Her fiancé, Brad, kept his protective hand in hers.
Noah cleared his throat, trying to appear unbothered. “Just enjoying the show.”
“Sure you are,” Turk muttered under his breath, smirking as he reached for the rolls.
Ruth glanced over, her brow arched in curiosity. “What show?”
“The ongoing circus of personalities,” Turk quipped, gesturing to the table. “Doctors, cops, lawyers, firefighters—this table’s a recipe for some epic debates.”
Brad, a state police official, laughed. “That’s rich coming from you, Turk. You argue for sport.”
“Because I’m good at it,” Turk fired back, drawing another round of laughter.
Tristan, a trauma physician, pointed his fork at Ruth. “Speaking of arguments, how’s the lawyer life treating you?”
“Busy,” Ruth admitted, setting down her glass. “But I like it. Keeps me sharp.”
Noah couldn’t resist jumping in, his voice calm and steady. “Considering you work for the dark side, you’re in court a lot?”
“Pretty often. Blake Ellison and Dylan Grant believe you sink or swim as a junior defense attorney,” Ruth said. “Though I’m trying to shift toward mediation when I can. Court’s exciting, but it’s exhausting.” She turned to Olivia, a police detective, sitting beside her. “I imagine you can relate.”
“Absolutely,” Olivia replied, nodding. “There’s only so much conflict you can handle in one day before you need to unplug.”
Molly, a medical examiner, leaned forward, grinning mischievously. “Unplugging doesn’t seem to be Ruth’s thing. She’s been known to argue over the rules of Scrabble.”
“It’s not arguing,” Ruth corrected with mock indignation. “It’s clarifying the rules.”
“Sure it is,” Alex teased, earning a groan from Ruth.
Noah watched the exchange, his chest tightening. It wasn’t just her beauty or intelligence—it was the way Ruth held her own in a room full of big personalities, her sharp wit, matched only by her warmth. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking this way, but the thought crept in: What if?
He forced himself to focus on the table again, where Brad and Ethan were now debating the best methods for de-escalating tense situations.
“Humor works nine times out of ten,” Brad said, his tone confident.
Ethan shook his head. “Not if the person’s past rational thought. Then it’s all about reading body language.”
Noah joined the conversation, his cop instincts kicking in. “It’s a mix of both. Humor can defuse tension, but you have to gauge the situation first.”
Turk chuckled. “Listen to Officer Philosopher over here.”
Ruth’s soft laugh cut through the noise, and Noah’s heart skipped a beat. She glanced at him, her expression thoughtful. “You’re not wrong. Reading people’s emotions is half the battle—whether it’s on the street or in the courtroom.”
For a moment, their eyes locked, and the room seemed to fade away. It was fleeting, but the connection sent warmth through him that no amount of candlelight could rival. As the conversation moved on, Noah found himself smiling.
Before dessert, Charlotte banished her guests to the living room while she, Olivia, Jackson and Alex cleared the table. Ruth sat beside Noah. She leaned back slightly, her eyes thoughtful. “You can see, it’s a big, loud family. We’re all different in our own way, but we’re close.” She sighed. “And, of course, you know about Alex and my mom.” She stared out into space. “They’re good together.”
Noah chuckled. “Yeah, Alex is happy. What’s that like for you?”
Ruth shrugged, clearly used to the weirdness by now. “At first, it was strange, but my mom seems happy. Alex treats her well, so I can’t complain too much. He’s also good to my sisters and me.” She flipped the question back to him. “What about you? Any family?”
Noah nodded. “Yeah, I’ve got three brothers. Jared’s the oldest—he’s the responsible one; he’s an internist in Seattle. My folks flew to be with him, his wife, and my new niece for the holidays. Then there’s Paul; he’s more of a free spirit, lives out in Denver and works as an emergency medicine doctor. But his hobby is being part of a ski patrol. He’s in Vale with his latest snow bunny. I come next. And, finally, Mark, the youngest, he covers his rent as a paramedic. He’s still trying to figure things out. Last I heard, he was chasing some new career as a travel blogger. He’s celebrating a Harry Potter Christmas in London.”
Ruth smiled, clearly amused. “Sounds like a lively bunch.”
“Yeah, you could say that,” Noah replied, thinking fondly of his brothers, despite the lunacy they often brought. He watched Ruth out of the corner of his eye, her guard down just slightly in the comfort of the moment.
“What about your parents?” She wasn’t making small talk. She was truly interested.
“Mom is a fifth-grade teacher. Dad is a general surgeon.”
“Sounds like a wonderful family.” She looked thoughtful.
As dessert was served and glasses were raised in a toast to family and friends, Noah caught Ruth’s gaze again. This time, she didn’t look away. Her expression softened, her smile lingering just a second too long.
The toast rang out around the table, a symphony of voices declaring love and gratitude. Noah lifted his glass and joined in, but his eyes never left Ruth.
Maybe this Christmas wasn’t just about family and food. Maybe it held something more.