Chapter 9 Dean
DEAN
The hum of the heater cutting out is the first thing I notice, a sudden silence that feels louder than the tension budding between Cal and Noelle.
Then the Christmas tune, “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,” sputters mid-note and dies, leaving the shop swallowed in darkness quickly after.
“Whoa,” I mumble, blinking hard as my eyes struggle to adjust. “That’s…not good.”
For a moment, there’s nothing but the muffled howl of wind pressing against the front windows and the faint crackle of wet snow pelting the door.
Eli lets out a startled little gasp, his head swiveling toward the ceiling. “Hey! What happened?”
“It’s okay, baby,” Noelle says quickly, her voice carrying that gentle calm to soothe him, but it’s still edged with tension that betrays her.
She sets the box down on the counter, her movements rushed as she reaches for him to pull him close. “It’s probably just the storm. Power lines go out all the time this time of year.”
Her words are meant to comfort him, but I can see the flicker of unease in her eyes even in the dim light.
The shop feels smaller now as the shadows stretch across the walls.
The glow from the front windows is the only thing keeping us from being completely swallowed by blackness.
The faint blue-gray light filtering through the snowfall outside paints her face in silver, accentuating the worry lines etched across her brow.
Eli leans into her side, his voice small now. “Are we stuck forever?”
Noelle softens instantly, crouching a little to meet his gaze. “No, sweetheart. We’re fine. Just a little power outage, that’s all. Everything should come back on soon.”
Her tone is steady now, calm enough that even I seem to relax a fraction. But I can tell it’s for Eli’s sake more than her own. Her hand doesn’t stop moving through his hair, her thumb tracing small, soothing circles at the base of his neck.
I fish out my phone, switching on the flashlight and sweeping the narrow beam across the counter.
The narrow beam slices through the dark, illuminating motes of glitter dust and the shimmer of tinsel on a nearby display. I angle it toward the storage room. “You got any candles or lanterns back there?”
Noelle nods. “Yeah. Storage closet. I’ll grab them.”
I shakes my head, already moving. “Stay. I’ve got it. I know you’ve got this place organized down to the dust bunnies.”
The faintest hint of a smile ghosts across her lips, there and gone in a heartbeat. “They’re on the shelf right behind the door, third one up from the bottom. In a cardboard box that has a label on it. Can’t miss it.”
“Perfect. I’ll be right back.”
Cal says something about checking the fuse box near the door, and then the three of us scatter into motion like we’ve done this a thousand times before.
Pushing open the back door, I step into the storage rooms, the beam of my phone light sweeping over the space.
Turning toward the shelf behind the door, I find the lanterns right where she said they’d be and pull out all three.
Right as I turn around, that’s when something catches my eye, a faint gleam at the far end of the room.
Something framed and half-hidden in the shadows on a desk tucked against the wall.
For reasons I can’t explain, I stop.
My chest tightens, an uneasy weight settling low in my gut.
The beam from my phone trembles slightly as I lift it, tracing the light across the cluttered desk and find a single framed photo.
I step closer, the world narrowing down to that image.
Her hair is a little longer, her face fuller and glowing.
She’s standing alone, smiling against a backdrop of a waterfall not too far from here, her dress stretching gently over her round belly.
Her hand rests on the swell of it, her smile wide and radiant like she’s been caught mid-laugh.
The breath leaves my lungs all at once.
My heart stumbles, then cracks, splintering into tiny pieces.
Even thinking about her going through her pregnancy by herself is devastating.
I imagine her standing right there, in that same living room I remember, packing a to-go bag and setting up her first car seat while trying to ignore how scared she must’ve been.
I picture her hands trembling as she pressed them to her stomach, wondering if she could really do this alone.
We should’ve been there. Hell, I should’ve been there like I told myself I would be.
If I’d just…if any of us had made it more of a priority to come back up here to see her after the holidays, we would’ve found out sooner.
Even if Eli wasn’t one of ours, we still could’ve helped. We could’ve done something.
But instead we let life get in the way and then six years passed in the blink of an eye.
My jaw tightens, the guilt rolling through me like thunder.
The lanterns clink softly in my arms as I head back toward the door.
Noelle and Eli are still behind the counter.
She’s perched on a stool now, humming softly under her breath. Eli’s sitting on the counter in front of her, his small legs swinging, a coloring book balanced across his knees.
He’s already back at it, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he scribbles furiously, clutching two crayons in his little fists.
For a second, I just stand there watching them.
The faint light from the snow outside catches the curve of Noelle’s cheek, the soft shadow of her lashes, the tiny smile she wears when she watches him.
It’s domestic and peaceful.
Something I have no right to find familiar and yet I do.
I want to.
I clear my throat and step closer.
“Hey,” I say softly, flicking on one of the lanterns.
Warm amber light spills across the counter, chasing away the shadows. I set it down beside Eli, smiling. “Here. Could use some light, huh?”
He looks up, his grin instant and pure. “Thanks! Er…”
“Dean,” I respond. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Eli.”
Cal rounds the corner a few seconds later, his phone pressed to his ear. His expression is grim.
He doesn’t say a word while he listens to whatever is on the other end of the line, his brows furrowing deeper until finally he exhales and pulls the phone away from his ear.
“National Weather Service just issued an update. The area’s in a complete whiteout. Visibility’s zero. So, no driving anytime soon.”
Noelle’s head snaps up, her frown forming instantly. “You’re kidding… Well, we can’t stay here all night. The place has no heat.”
I glance over at Cal, then back at her. “You think the hotel’s down too?”
He shrugs. “Could be. Usually they’ve got backup generators, but in weather like this who knows.”
“Worth a shot to call Grant and check,” I say, already knowing how this is going to go. Or hoping, at least.
He nods, rubbing a hand over his jaw before stepping toward the front of the store. “I’ll see if he’s holed up or if the power’s out there too.”
When I turn back to Noelle, she’s still frowning, her hand resting lightly on Eli’s shoulder. “Listen, I appreciate you guys trying to help out, but it’s really not necessary. Eli and I can just walk back to my dad’s house. It’s not that far.”
I stare at her, incredulous. “Noelle…no offense, but yeah, it is.”
Her brow furrows. “It’s only a few blocks—”
“It’s not,” I cut in gently, holding up a hand. “You know I know where your dad’s place is, right? It would take you an hour to walk there in good weather. With a whiteout going on outside?” I shake my head. “You’re looking at more than that.”
She blinks, caught off guard by the firmness in my tone.
My eyes sweep over her and Eli, both of them in thin knit sweaters and casual pants. “Also…you guys aren’t exactly dressed for a blizzard.”
Her lips part, ready with an argument, but before she can speak, her phone buzzes sharply on the counter.
The sound slices through the silence. She exhales hard and grabs it, pressing it to her ear. “Hey, Dad. Yeah, the shop’s down too.”
I lean my hip against the counter, setting the lanterns down next to me.
There’s a pause while she listens, nodding absently. Her hand runs over Eli’s curls as she murmurs, “No, we’re fine. Just a little cold, that’s all.”
From where I stand, I can just make out Richard’s voice bleeding faintly through the line, muffled but distinctly laced with worry.
The same concern I remember from years ago when Noelle so much as sneezed wrong as a kid.
Even now, it hasn’t changed.
Noelle bites her lip as she listens, nodding along to whatever he’s saying, her eyes darting between Eli and the windows up front like she’s trying to manage a dozen thoughts at once.
Then suddenly her gaze flicks to me.
The corner of her mouth tugs downward, and she hesitates for half a breath before speaking.
“No, no. Stay at home. Uh, Dean and Callum are actually here. They stopped by to say hi when the power went out… Yeah, definitely. That’s what they suggested too.”
I have to bite back a grin.
It takes everything in me not to smirk or say something along the lines of See? Even your dad agrees with me.
The little spark of amusement that threatens to break through feels almost foreign after the last hour, but I can’t help it.
Even irritated and exasperated, she’s still pure Noelle—stubborn and always trying to do everything herself.
She exhales a long, tired sigh into the phone, her hand rubbing absently over her forehead. “I know. I will, I promise… Love you too.”
When she hangs up, she sets the phone down on the counter and presses both palms against her face, her shoulders slumping. For a brief moment, the mask slips.
The carefully maintained composure, the polite professionalism bleeds into frustration.
Normally, I’d feel guilty for putting her in this kind of position—trapped between us and her instinct to stay in control—but this time, I can’t.
It’s not about ego or old emotion driving me to this point, just simple practicality.
It’s not safe for her and Eli to walk out there in that kind of storm.
She knows it.
I know it.
Even Richard knows it.
And if keeping her with us means she’s safe and alive come morning, then so be it.
She can be mad at us all she wants.