Chapter 18 Elise
The handicapped van always smelled faintly like vinyl and peppermint gum, thanks to her father’s lifelong Altoids habit.
Elise sat belted into the passenger-side wheelchair station, her gloved hands resting on the padded armrests, breathing in the familiar scent and wishing that she didn’t feel like cargo.
She didn’t usually feel that way, but last night’s conversation with Wade hung over her mood, darkening it.
Dad drove carefully through the fresh Christmas morning snow, windshield wipers brushing away flurries that looked like rising sparks.
Mom sat in the front holding a casserole dish, and all around, the van was piled with gifts.
Everything felt warm and bright and festive except for Elise, who could not seem to unclench her jaw.
Her mother turned. “Sweetheart, you’re awfully quiet.”
“I’m fine,” Elise said instantly, plastering on a smile.
“You didn’t sleep well?” she pressed.
“Who sleeps well on Christmas Eve?” Elise quipped. “Santa anxiety is real.”
“Elise.” The tone was both gentle and knowing.
Elise exhaled slowly, her mind going back to last night.
He hadn’t meant to hurt her. Wade Reynolds was kind down to the marrow. But when he’d gone on a mobility science rant, her heart had stumbled over every word.
Her mother let the silence stretch a little, then asked softly, “Did something happen with Wade?”
“No,” Elise said quickly. “Of course not. We’re just…friends. He helped with Shambles and the Nativity thing last night. That’s all.”
He also stole my heart, gave me my first kiss, and made me think about a future I never dreamed I could have.
She kept all that to herself.
“He’s a sweetheart,” Mom said, still turned to look at Elise. “And he clearly cares about you.”
“He cares about everything,” Elise said, sharper than intended. “That’s exactly the issue.”
Her mother didn’t press again, so it was quiet except for Bing Crosby crooning about a White Christmas, which her father put on repeat until they reached Snowberry Lodge.
There, Dad pulled around back to the kitchen door because it was the only entrance without stairs and how Elise always got in and out of the lodge.
Her whole body prickled as she unclipped her chest strap, braced as her dad lowered the van’s lift, and rolled into the crisp Christmas air. The tension was understandable, since she was minutes from seeing Wade.
Inside the kitchen, warmth wrapped around Elise instantly. Cinnamon rolls baked in the oven, pine-scented candles flickered, and a familiar chorus of Starling, Kessler and McBride voices drifted from the great room.
“Elise!” MJ swept over, hugging her lightly and avoiding bumping the chair. “Merry Christmas.”
“And to you, Aunt MJ!” Elise grinned. “Nic texted me this morning. I heard you and Matt made a huge discovery last night.”
The older woman flushed. “I thought I had ghosts. Turned out I had the phone of a construction worker.”
They laughed about that, then she moved with her parents to the great room and set their gifts beneath the tree.
A bunch of conversations overlapped, while Newt bounded through the room wearing a big red ribbon and bow as a collar.
She hugged and helloed, and tried not to spin her chair in every direction looking for the man who was not in the room.
Not surprising. He was a lodge guest, not family, and not obligated to attend the festivities.
Disappointment went to war with relief, and—oddly enough—relief won. She didn’t have to look him in the eye and pretend she wasn’t stung, rattled, and cracked wide open.
“Elise!” Nicole swung down beside her and plopped onto the sofa. “Merry Christmas, lady!”
“Merry Christmas. You look like you swallowed a secret.”
Nicole flashed a guilty smile. “Me? Nooo.” Her knee bounced. “Okay, maybe a tiny one.”
“Where’s Cameron?” Elise asked.
“Uh… around.” Nicole picked up her phone and gave a soft gasp as she read the screen. “Okay, then. Let’s take a walk.”
“A walk? Now? Where are we going?”
“Stop interrogating and show me why you’re called Hale on Wheels.” She gestured toward the kitchen. “Chop-chop, sister.”
Elise followed, more curious with every passing second. On the way, Nicole grabbed a jacket and tossed Elise her fur poncho from where she’d left it in the mudroom.
“We’re going outside?” Elise asked.
“Do the words Christmas surprise mean nothing to you?” Nicole quipped.
They crossed the plowed path to the stables, breath visible in the crisp air. At the big door, Nicole paused dramatically.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
“I’m actually not sure.”
With her fiftieth sly smile, Nicole pushed open the stable door, letting in a rectangle of bright, icy sunlight.
“Elise,” she said softly. “Go on.”
Elise rolled forward on instinct, expecting…honestly, she had no idea what to expect.
What she didn’t expect was Wade.
He stood in the center of the stable beside Cameron, both of them flanking Copper’s stall. But that wasn’t what made Elise’s breath catch.
It was the ramp.
An enormous, gleaming, mechanized wheelchair ramp sat in front of Copper’s stall. It was…beautiful—hydraulic, adjustable, and electric. A veritable wheelchair elevator made to rise straight up to a horse.
Beside it was a custom saddle rig with a harness configuration unlike anything she’d ever seen outside a therapy barn.
Copper, curious and calm, poked his nose over the stall door as if to say, Well? Look what they did.
Wade lifted his gaze slowly.
He looked tentative, as if he had no idea whether this would heal her or shatter her.
“Elise,” he said, voice steady but soft. “Merry Christmas.”
Her heart punched against her ribs.
For a beat, she couldn’t speak or breathe. Tears pricked her eyes and she blinked them away furiously.
Nicole touched her shoulder. “This is why I was weird,” she whispered. “Cam helped him set it up. It arrived at sunrise.”
Cameron grinned. “The instructions were terrible, but we figured it out.”
Elise swallowed hard. The cold air from outside clashed with the sudden heat in her chest.
Wade took a barely perceptible step forward. “It’s a…ramp.”
Her laugh escaped on a shaky breath. “I see that.”
“And a new saddle.”
“Yes, that, too.”
“And a harness configuration that’ll let you ride Copper without anyone helping you up or trailing you around the paddock.”
Her fingers tightened around the wheels of her chair. “Wade…”
He inhaled slowly. “I know how things sounded last night,” he said. “And I know this might feel like more of the same. But it isn’t. Elise…this isn’t about fixing you.”
The words struck like a bell, vibrating through her.
He hesitated before glancing at Cam and Nicole. “Can we talk? Just the two of us?”
Cam squeezed her shoulder. “We’ll be inside, E. Take your time.”
When they left, Wade’s expression grew serious. “I owe you an explanation before you accept this gift. May I offer you a ride?”
Right then, he could have asked for anything—the moon, a million dollars, her undying love. The answer would have been yes.
She just looked at him and nodded, feeling hot and oddly light, as if someone had reduced the gravity in the room. Wade’s green eyes held hers, bright and earnest beneath the brim of that black cowboy hat.
“Let me show you,” he said quietly. “And if you hate it, we shut it down, we take it apart, I’ll haul every piece off this property myself. Deal?”
Her heart hammered as she rolled closer.
The unit was sleek and solid, bolted securely on a platform on the floor.
The whole thing was edged with low safety rails, and looked like it was operated by a control panel mounted at arm height.
On the far side, a wide, padded gate lined up perfectly with Copper’s girth as Wade opened the stall door and led him out.
“It works a lot like the van lift,” Wade said, keeping his voice low, giving her space to take it all in.
“You roll on, lock your chair, hit the button to raise the platform. Once you’re level with the saddle, you’ve got this transfer bar here.
” He tapped a sturdy, swiveling arm attached to the side.
“You grab, pivot, and lower yourself over. The saddle’s got side blocks and this discreet hip strap once you’re settled. It can all be done on your own.”
Elise studied each part, her brain automatically assessing angles, distances, failure points. “And if Copper moves?”
“I’ll hold him for the demo. And later, if you want to work up to doing the whole thing alone, you can.
This rig’s rated for unassisted use. Auburn’s been using a similar design for years with their equine therapy program.
I called in a bunch of favors to get this here in time.
So, uh… if you could pretend to like it, that’d be great for my ego. ”
She huffed out a laugh in spite of herself. “You called Auburn?”
“I sweet-talked half of Alabama and UPS,” he said. “Christmas miracles all around.”
The flutters in her stomach intensified. Part of her wanted to bolt. Part of her wanted to launch herself onto that horse and never come down. And part of her wanted to throw her arms around Wade Reynolds and kiss him senseless.
“Okay,” she said, hearing the tremor in her voice and deciding not to care. “Show me.”
Wade stepped behind her chair and gave a gentle push to line her up with the platform. “Straight on,” he murmured. “That’s it. A little more…yes. Perfect. Lock your brakes.”
His hands brushed hers as she set the brakes, sending a shiver up her arms.
“Ready?” he asked.
No, not even close. “Yes.”
“Press this button,” he said, indicating a lighted panel.
She did and the lift hummed, smooth and steady, raising slowly her until she was level with Copper’s withers. From this vantage point, she could see the top of the horse’s back, the gleam of the new leather saddle rig.