24. Jared
JARED
The barn was eerily quiet, leaving wind howling outside rather than in. I dusted snow from my gloves and peered around the open, darkened space.
Light slipped through cracks in the boards, as did cries from the wind outside. The smell of hay, animals, and manure permeated the space, but at least we were warmer and drier in here than we would have been had we stayed out in the storm.
Lacie hobbled to lean against the nearest wall. “Thanks for helping me,” she said.
“Are you okay?” I asked. Pain streaked her face. I could tell she was trying not to show how much her leg hurt. “Did you sprain your ankle?”
“I’m not sure,” she said. “I lost my grip while I was crossing over the fence, and I landed wrong on it. I hope it’s just a sprain and that I didn’t break it.”
“Let’s look at it. We need to find somewhere warm and maybe let Junie know where we are.”
I pulled open my phone, swiped, and attempted to scroll through and bring up Harper’s Inn on the internet, only to have the worst notification pop up instead.
I frowned. “No service.”
“Probably the storm,” she said through her teeth.
“Do you think there’s a way to contact the inn from in here? That maybe Boone has a phone or something?” I glanced around.
Animal stalls and the open area where Boone had been storing the sleigh that he’d taken out were to the left. A smaller area lay to the right, including the door to some kind of office.
Another thought struck. Boone and his guest were out in this horrible weather, too. Were they stuck in the storm? Hopefully, they found shelter.
Lacie held her left foot aloft from the ground. I wanted to find somewhere for her to sit, but nothing came to mind.
“If he has a phone, it might be out, too, considering how badly the wind is blowing,” she said as I searched.
Sure enough, I found an office, with shelves and a single desk and chair. No phone.
Then again, why would it have one? Everything was wireless these days.
I returned to where Lacie stood. “No phone,” I said, “but there’s a chair. Let’s get you to it.”
Lacie gave a begrudging nod and accepted my arm around her again. She skip-hop-groaned to the office and the dusty chair within. She held onto my arms as I guided her to sit.
“Thanks,” she told me, wincing and gesturing to the rest of the room.
She pointed to another chair in the corner, one I hadn’t noticed before. I slid it close to the side of the desk. Close to where she sat.
Wind howled at the boards, sounding horrific and nasty. Lacie removed the beanie from her hair and shook the snow from it. A few horses were in their stalls, ears pricking at the storm ravaging the barn’s boards. One let out a low chuff.
“So, reindeer,” I began lamely.
Lacie extended her left foot out and rested a hand on her knee. “That storm came out of nowhere. And the music. Did you hear the melody that swirled just before all the reindeer, like, disappeared?”
“Yeah, it sounded so… angelic,” I said. “Probably why it was so distracting. And what was with that, anyway? Are we going crazy?”
Lacie shook her head with a little smile. “If it were just happening to one of us, maybe. But we both saw it, right? We both heard the music.”
A nod.
“Then we’re not going crazy.” A pause. “You know, when I heard there was magic here, I never thought it would be like this.”
I laughed. Leave it to her to chalk this up to magic.
Then again, what else could it be? What else would make mysterious notes appear in Christmas stockings and on reindeer antlers, wipe her schedule completely, and then make the reindeer who kept appointments completely disappear at the same moment a storm swelled in?
“What did you think magic would be like?” I asked.
“More Harry Potter-ish. Magic wands and magic words. Maybe a little less bossy.”
I released another peal of laughter, and it felt so good to let go. I’d been so pent up, so frustrated since receiving that text from Tia and feeling like such an idiot. Her rejection hadn’t been the worst of it. The worst part was that I might be considered unfaithful in any kind of reality.
It was why I was so glad Lacie had stopped me before I took things too far after my nap.
My dad had been unfaithful to my mom. He was the reason we’d moved to Texas—to be closer to the Sorensens after Dad broke Mom’s heart.
Dad had tried mending things with my siblings and me, but even though Mom claimed she was happier without him, even though she expressed forgiveness and a desire that I could do the same, I couldn’t let Dad’s selfish decisions go. It was the reason I’d declined visiting Dad in Louisiana for Christmas this year.
I refused to be anything like that.
The only reason I’d kissed Lacie that night was because after seeing our wedding pictures online, after hearing Mom claim I’d broken up with Tia a year before, I’d gotten swept up in the moment.
And then after my nap…I hadn’t been entirely with it. Sleep had still addled my brain, and I hadn’t been thinking clearly.
I couldn’t let that happen again, not until we were securely grounded in reality once more.
Lacie adjusted her weight and let out a little wince and a cry. Her hands, now free of their gloves, reached toward her ankle.
“You need some ice on that,” I said. I didn’t like the idea of her in pain. Not one bit. “And maybe a wrap.”
“I’ll be okay.”
I stood. “Let me see if I can find a first aid kit around here. And maybe something you can prop your foot on.” Though if it came down to it, she could rest her foot in my lap or something.
On top of everything, my stomach grumbled. Considering how dark it was outside, I was betting we’d have to spend the night in the barn.
“And maybe somewhere more comfortable for us to situate ourselves while we wait this out. Something tells me that it’s not letting up anytime soon.”
Lacie peered to the window. “You think we’re going to have to sleep in here?”
I swallowed. “I’m not sure. I’ll go see what I can find. You good?”
She gave a timid nod, and I trudged back toward the open area where the horses were. I used my phone as a flashlight, but as far as I could tell, there were no first aid kits in that area.
I meandered across the hay strewn floor toward what looked like a series of stairs.
“Found some stairs,” I called out, hoping she could hear me from the office. “I’m going to see if there’s somewhere you can rest that leg.”
I thundered up before I heard her muffled reply. While still cold, the chill lessened in the smaller room I discovered at the top. Ironically, the wind’s howl was quieter in this area, which made me suspect the room was more insulated than anywhere else in the barn.
Sure enough, the walls were finished with exposed sheet rock, as though the project had been started but had gotten sidetracked. A small couch was situated on one side, as was a mini fridge. Several boxes were stacked in the corner, and to my relief, several blankets were folded on top of them.
“Someone must sleep in here,” I mused.
Would Lacie be able to make it up the stairs?
I hurried back down to where she sat. The only light in the room came from her phone screen, which she put down at my approach.
“Find anything?” she asked.
“Found a little room with a couch and some blankets. Think you can manage some stairs?”
She peered at her foot. “I’ll try. That sounds better than hanging out in here all night.”
I helped her to her feet and provided support while she hobbled to where the stairs led up. Lacie stared up the incline with creases in her forehead.
Without another thought, I tucked my hand behind her back and the other beneath her legs, sweeping her into my arms. Lacie let out a little noise and threw her arms around my neck.
“Whoa.”
And though she seemed surprised, a smile lit up her face. “Thanks, Jare. I knew your muscles were good for something.”
“You are extremely heavy.”
She smacked my chest.
That was a total lie. Truthfully, she was anything but heavy, and I wouldn’t have minded carrying her for a good long while just to keep her close to me. Chuckling, I carried her easily up the stairs.
Her wet hair stuck to my neck, but she settled in against my chest, resting her head against my shoulder, driving me absolutely wild. Once I reached the little room, I didn’t want to let her go. But I crossed to the couch I’d cleared and set her on it.
“Good?”
“Good, thanks. Did you find a first aid kit? And hey, what about that note we found?”
“We can read it in a minute. Once I get you situated.” I turned and examined the room a little more, again using the flashlight on my phone.
I usually had decent battery life. Hopefully, it would last as long as we needed it to.
“No electricity?”
I flicked the switch by the door again, testing it.
“Out,” I said. That meant we were in for a cold, dark night.
At least there were blankets.
I searched the cupboards, disheveling random rolls of paper towels and cardboard boxes, until my eyes settled on a plastic tote.
“Aha,” I said, sliding it out and showing it to her. “First aid kit. Let’s get that boot off.”
Movement helped push blood through my veins and keep me warm. Lacie’s breath was still visible from her mouth, but she didn’t complain about the cold or the pain as she untied her boot and slid it gingerly from her foot. Her sock was hanging halfway off her foot.
That was the worst feeling.
“How long has it been like that?” I said.
“Almost since we got to the barn.”
“And you just left it?”
“Too much work to try and get it back on.”
I released another chuckle and opened the kit. “There we go.”
I pulled the small roll from its place in the box’s corner and began to unwind the stretchy fabric. “Compression will help with the swelling. Too bad we don’t have ice.”
“I know where you can find some.”
My eyes flicked upward to find a teasing glint in hers. Seeing her face shadowed like this, with hints of light in her eyes, was almost too much.
I tore my gaze away.
“If you mean going back out in that storm, that’s not happening. Keep your foot still if you can.”
“Are you kidding? I’m not about to move it.”
I lifted her foot as carefully as I could. She released another pained noise from between clenched teeth but nodded for me to continue.
“You have pretty feet,” I said, wanting to distract her and knowing she’d like the compliment. “Have I ever told you that?”
I wrapped the bandage, starting at the top of her ankle and then around her foot. Ankle, then foot, and back again.
“Pretty? Did you just say the word ‘pretty?’”
“Is there a better word? Should I have said attractive instead?”
She snorted. “You think my feet are attractive?”
I kept my attention on her foot, securing the bandage into place. “And if I do?”
She sank back, kicking up her foot for a better look. “Never had anyone say my feet are attractive before.”
Great. Now, she was going to hold that one over my head for the rest of our lives.
I closed the kit. “Let’s get those blankets.”
First, I removed my boots. Once hers were off, I set both pairs near the stack of boxes and retrieved the blankets.
“Move over,” I said playfully before scooping my hands beneath her and sliding her over to make room for me. Now, she sat wedged between me and the couch with her foot elevated on the arm.
“Take over, why don’t you,” she said, leaning against me.
“We’ll stay warmer this way.” Which was completely true, though—try as I might to lighten things between us, this was anything but.
My heart pounded as she settled against my chest.
“Sorry,” she said, pulling her hair to the side. “My hair’s still wet.”
“You comfortable?” I asked, situating myself so we could both stretch our legs across the small couch. She was wedged between me and the back of the couch.
“Probably warmer than you are.”
“I’ll be all right.” I opened the blanket and laid it over the top of us.
Then, knowing how much pain the action would cause me later, I wound my arms around her.
And though the wind clawed at the barn and whined for entrance, though snow visibly swirled through the window across from us in the darkened sky, I felt as though I was in the warmest, safest place there was to be.
I still worried over Tia’s text, over what we were going to do when we got back to the inn, got back to Texas, but the truth was, I had no idea what to expect.
How could I? And Lacie still hadn’t mentioned my confession or the moment after I’d woken up.
So for tonight, I would hold her. We could worry about tomorrow when it came.