Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

B eing an elf wasn’t so bad, Natalie had decided an hour later as she made a silly face behind the camera, hoping to elicit a smile from the little boy now screaming bloody murder on Santa’s lap. Yes, she’d sounded like a cat whose tail had been lit on fire during her rousing rendition of “Here Comes Santa Claus,” and yes, she had been hacked on twelve times, spit in the face twice, and was now enduring the elf-costume-induced wedgie to end all wedgies, but she’d had worse jobs. And infinitely worse days.

“Come on now, Caleb, give Santa a little smile,” Natalie called to the still-shrieking toddler, who could probably be heard at the International Space Station by now. She pressed her eye to the camera lens, then said, “One, two, three… say Christmas cookies!”

Another snort from the reindeer at that last word, and was it Natalie’s imagination, or was he much, much closer to the cookie table than he had been fifteen minutes ago?

“C-C-Christmas cookies!” the boy managed to choke out between wails, and Natalie pulled her attention back to the task at hand, snapping the photo with a flourish and gracing the boy’s harried-looking mother with a sympathetic smile.

“I think I got it,” she said, then waited while the Polaroid shot printed out. The boy’s face was contorted in a hideous expression, and Walter, admittedly, looked a bit shell-shocked in the photo, but hey, at least he’d signed up for this willingly, right?

“Merry Christmas,” Natalie said to the mother, presenting her with the photo while trying not to laugh. The woman looked at it and grinned, then gathered her son into her arms and carried him, still screaming, toward the exit. Natalie intervened just long enough to hand him a treat bag, then turned to the next child in line. As she did, she noticed Gabe entering the town hall, his dark hair dusted with snow, a red and green plaid scarf wrapped around his neck. He was holding hands with the same little blonde girl she’d seen the day before at The Chestnut Café; the girl was talking animatedly and pointing at Walter, her face wild with excitement.

Natalie’s heart sank as she saw the look of love on Gabe’s face as he hugged his daughter to his side, just a little—the tiniest bit, really, and who could blame her? Every woman loved a man who adored his daughter, and Natalie felt a sharp pang of jealousy as they entered the line, still holding hands, because she had always envisioned herself as part of a happy little family someday.

Gabe glanced up then, directly into Natalie’s eyes, and she mustered up a grin and an enthusiastic wave in the hopes of covering up the humiliating fact that she had been watching him. Over the next fifteen minutes, as Gabe and his daughter marched steadily closer to the front of the line, Natalie performed her elf duties the best she could while sneaking them covert glances… although why, she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Maybe she’d hoped that she and Devin would soon have a child of their own. Maybe she was just feeling lonely.

Maybe…

Well. Maybe not.

“And what would you like for Christmas, my dear?” Natalie vaguely heard Walter asking in the background, followed by the sound of him clearing his throat, loudly and pointedly. She jumped and, blushing, grabbed the camera off the table beside her, waiting patiently as the girl on his lap rattled off a list of toys she hoped to unwrap on Christmas day. When she was finished, and Natalie had taken her picture, Walter threw her a look that plainly said, Are you okay ?

She nodded, her cheeks still on fire, and studiously ignored Gabe for the next few minutes as she threw herself wholeheartedly into her elf duties. Then, just as he and his daughter approached the velvet rope separating Walter from the crowd, an almighty crash shook the entire town hall, followed by a shriek of surprise.

Natalie whipped around just in time to see the reindeer free himself from his toppled-over pen and gallop toward Carol, his liquid eyes laser-focused on the cookies in front of her. Natalie acted without thinking, sprinting toward the charging reindeer, her shoes jingling madly as she cried, “Stop, stop !” at the top of her lungs. Children were screaming, parents were shouting, and “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer” was somehow blaring from the overhead speakers as Carol ducked behind the tables just before the reindeer careened into them at full force, Natalie on his heels.

What she was planning to do, she didn’t know. But she did know one thing.

As soon as she caught up with the reindeer and made a grab for his tail, she saw only the fiery look in his eyes… and the bottom half of his hoof as he thrust it as hard as he could into her ribcage.

Then, darkness.

The fluorescent lights above her head were blinding as Natalie blinked once, then twice, then shot up only to fall back again, howling in pain.

“You probably shouldn’t do that again.”

She was definitely hallucinating, because she could have sworn she heard Gabe’s voice. This was followed in short order by his head swimming into view, the smile on his lips one of faint amusement. She tried to sit up again, but this time, a gentle hand pressed her back down.

“Seriously, Natalie, you need to take it easy.” Another smile, followed by a chuckle. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a terrible patient?”

“Where am I? What’s going on?” Natalie frowned up at him, then turned her head slowly to take in her surroundings. A blood pressure machine was visible on one side of her, a cabinet full of medical supplies on the other. A tabletop Christmas tree twinkled merrily from one corner of the room, and the sight of the colored lights and baubles brought the memories of the past few minutes flooding back.

Peppermint the elf holding a camera one second, Peppermint the elf sprawled on the floor the next.

“Ugh...” Natalie pressed a hand to her temple, which was thumping with the beginnings of an epic headache. “I don’t feel so good.”

“No, I should say not.” Gabe shined a penlight in her eye, examining her pupils. “The good news is you don’t seem to have a concussion, although time will tell on that front. Want to tell me what you remember happening?”

Natalie’s mouth was dry and cottony, and she had to swallow several times before she could speak. Gabe, seeing this, rummaged around in the cabinet behind him before producing a bottle of water, twisting off the cap, and passing it to her. She gave him a grateful smile, then chugged half the bottle while her mind tried to slot the jumbled puzzle pieces into place.

“I was running…” she said. “Toward a cookie ta ble, trying to save Carol Miller from being eaten, and I got kicked in the stomach by an angry reindeer.”

Gabe grinned at her. “Mostly true. Humphrey never would have eaten Carol because reindeer are herbivores. And I don’t think he was angry—I think he was hungry.”

“Humphrey? Please tell me that beast isn’t named Humphrey, because that’s just ridiculous.” Natalie squinted up at the man hovering over her—the very handsome man, she noticed, not for the first time, taking in his dark hair and eyes, and the not-insignificant muscles visible beneath his doctor’s coat.

Wait… doctor’s coat?

“Are you a doctor?” she asked, realization dawning as she looked around the room. She seemed to be in an office or small hospital of some kind, and surely they didn’t let just anyone examine the patients. Of course, Gabe could examine her anytime, from head to toe and all the places in between, and oh, sweet baby Jesus, did she just say that out loud?

She peered at him, trying to determine whether she had, but his face remained smooth and professional, with the exception of the amused glint in his dark eyes.

Crap on a stick .

“One question at a time,” he said, a smile in his voice. “Yes, that beast is indeed named Humphrey, and he’s been a beloved part of Chestnut Cove’s Christmas festivities for several years now. He’s usually quite the gentleman, but I guess Holly’s sugar cookies were too much for him to handle.” He clicked the penlight off and slid it back into the pocket of his white coat. “And yes, I am a doctor. The town’s only doctor, in fact.” He gestured around the room. “Fortunately my office is right next door to the town hall, so Walter and I were able to carry you here.” He laughed. “Now those kids think that Santa is not only magical, but he’s a hero too.”

Leaning forward, he clasped his hands loosely in front of him, his eyebrows furrowed with concern. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay, I guess.” She began gingerly pressing her fingers into her body. “My head hurts… a lot.” The breath rushed from her lungs in a pained whoosh as she got to her chest. “Ouch,” she said, wincing.

“May I?” Gabe was standing over her now, hands hovering above her chest. She nodded, feeling self-conscious but trying not to yelp out loud as he tenderly prodded her ribs. “Nothing feels fractured,” he murmured, continuing to press gently while she looked every which way but into his eyes. This was awkward. Seriously, seriously awkward, mostly because Natalie was well aware that she’d been having… thoughts… about this man. This very married, very off-limits man.

“While I think you’re mostly just going to have some bumps and bruises, I do think we should run a few tests,” Gabe said, withdrawing his hands and taking a seat behind his computer to tap out a few notes on the keyboard. “X-ray for the ribs to ensure there aren’t any fractures, possibly a CT scan for the head… you hit it off the table on the way down, which is why you passed out, and also why you feel like your head has been trampled by a herd of stampeding reindeer.” She cringed, and he laughed. “Too soon?”

“Too soon,” she acknowledged. “I’ll never look at Rudolph the same way again.” She lay back on the exam table with a sigh, then glanced around Gabe’s office. “Are you going to be performing the tests here?”

“Unfortunately, we aren’t that sophisticated.” He pushed back from his computer with a smile. “There’s a hospital about thirty minutes from here. I’ll give them a call to let them know we’re on our way.”

“We?” Natalie asked, attempting to sit up once more. This time she was successful, though the room was still spinning slightly, like she’d just stepped off an amusement park ride. “Are you taking me?”

“You don’t have a car, and while we do share an ambulance with a few of the other mountain communities, we try our best to save it for true emergencies.” Gabe held out a hand. When she took it, he gave her a soft tug until she was on her feet. “You okay?” he asked, scanning her, his eyes warm with concern.

Her gaze met his, and she nodded. Then he offered her his arm, and she shuffled beside him through the small office and out the back door, where his pickup truck was parked. “I figured we shouldn’t go through the front and make a scene,” he said, helping her into the passenger seat, his breath clouding around him in the frosty air as he reached around her to buckle her in. Then, with a wink, he added, “And I’m guessing we’ve already traumatized the children enough for one day.”

“Sorry about that,” Natalie said, her eyes drifting closed as she settled back against the seat. The snow was still swirling gently outside, the air redolent with the fresh, clean scent of pine and winter, but inside the truck it was cozy and warm. Too cozy, because she could feel herself drifting off again, her thoughts floating in different directions as the warmth enveloped her. “And sorry about your daughter,” she murmured as he slid behind the wheel and cranked the engine. “I hope she still gets to visit with Santa…”

Gabe must have responded, because the low rumble of his voice washed over her. But what he said was a mystery, because by the time he finished his sentence, Natalie was already fast asleep.

“Thanks again for chauffeuring me around all day,” Natalie said as she and Gabe stood in front of The Mistletoe House later that evening. Twilight had fallen over the mountains, and the mauve sky was streaked with strands of coral and grapefruit from the setting sun. The snow had finally stopped falling, though the cobblestone sidewalks were dusted with white and the trees surrounding them were glittering in the waning light. She had to admit, it was beautiful.

“It was my pleasure,” Gabe said. He blew into his bare hands to warm them from the cold. Carolers were singing on a nearby corner, their voices drifting over the evening air. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” He smiled at her, his dark eyes dancing with amusement. “I take it no more elf duty?”

“Wrong,” Natalie said, surprising even herself. Then, shrugging, she laughed. “Peppermint doesn’t hang up her ears that easily. And besides, I’m stuck in this town for another few days, so I might as well have something to do.” Gabe’s smile flickered at the edges, and she winced. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong,” she said, shaking her head. “Chestnut Cove is a lovely town—really, it is. And you and Faith and Walter—and everyone, really—have been so kind to me. But…”

She hesitated, unable to vocalize her feelings. Behind Gabe, the bell in the town square began to ring, signaling the start of a new hour. She recognized the melody of “O Christmas Tree,” and her stomach lurched.

Gabe lifted his hands, palms out. “Hey, I get it. No explanations needed, and no offense taken. This isn’t your home.”

No, it wasn’t. Nor was anywhere else.

Natalie swallowed hard, looked at the ground, tried not to cry. Useless, because her eyes were already burning, but Gabe didn’t need to know that.

“Natalie?” he asked softly. She sensed him taking a step toward her, close enough to touch.

“Ouch,” she said, pressing her fingers to her temples, feigning a headache. “Sorry, I’m just… I’m really tired.” She wiped her eyes as discreetly as she could, then chanced a glance up at him. He was watching her, his gaze on her face, a brand burning into her skin. Their eyes lingered on each other for the space of several heartbeats, and Natalie was first to break the connection.

Because that’s what it was. A connection. Undeniable, and impossible.

“I should go.” She wiped her eyes again; her cheeks were wet with tears. “Thank you again for your kindness. You have no idea what it means to me.”

She turned to leave, and was just about to open the door to The Mistletoe House when a hand pressed against it, stopping her from entering. Glancing over her shoulder, Natalie saw Gabe with his hand on the door, his eyes still locked on hers. “Come with me to the Christmas tree lighting ceremony tomorrow night.” His smile was soft. “Please.”

She hesitated. The bell was still chiming behind her, the town was awash in golden light, and this moment could have been perfect. In another life, with another man.

She started to shake her head, but he held his ground. “It’s a big deal here in town—our way of officially ringing in the Christmas season. There will be food trucks, a hot chocolate station, maybe a visit from the man in red…” He chuckled. “Although I’m guessing you’ve seen enough of him today to last a lifetime.” He cocked his head at her, his eyes still assessing her face. “Say you’ll think about it.”

“Sorry.” She shook her head again, this time more insistently. “I’m just not… into Christmas, I guess you could say. It’s not really my thing.” Turning once more, she added, “But I hope you, Holly, and Sophie have a really nice time.”

She had one foot in the inn’s door when Gabe called out to her, and this time, his words stopped her in her tracks.

“Holly isn’t my wife.”

Natalie pivoted on her heel slowly to face him. His dark eyes were dusted with copper in the last rays of the dying sun, and a smile was playing across his lips. “She’s not my girlfriend, either.” His eyes were steady on her face. For some reason, she couldn’t breathe .

“Oh?” she managed.

He shook his head. “She’s my sister. And Sophie is my niece. Her father isn’t in the picture all that much, so I step in where I can.” He shrugged. “I’m kind of awesome like that.”

At that, Natalie laughed, loud and long. “You are awesome like that.”

He grinned at her, hands shoved in the pockets of his coats, twinkle lights highlighting his hair with streaks of gold. “So the tree lighting ceremony. You’ll consider it?”

A pause. Then, “I’ll consider it.”

His expression was soft. Hopeful, even. “Goodnight, Natalie.”

“Goodnight, Gabe.”

This time when she turned to leave, she was smiling.

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