Chapter 14
CHAPTER 14
N atalie awoke the next day to a mountain of snow outside her window and the sound of Vernon’s snow plow scraping the streets. Otherwise, traffic on the roads was nearly nonexistent, and the normally bustling sidewalks were empty. Faith had informed her by text message that Santa’s Wonderland would be closed for the day due to the inclement weather, and so Natalie spent a wonderful morning in a cozy chair by the window, alternating between watching the snowflakes drift gently to the ground and losing herself in one of the books Faith kept stocked in the library downstairs.
She was going to miss this place. She was going to miss it terribly, but it was time to move on. The interview was scheduled for next week, a few days before Christmas; the bakery was eager to find a replacement for their current manager, who was planning to stay home to raise a new baby, and Natalie was equally eager to hear more about the job. By all accounts, it seemed like the perfect fit.
Except…
Well. Except.
Shaking off that last thought, Natalie picked up her book again, though a few minutes passed before she realized she hadn’t read a single word. Vernon had done a good job of clearing the streets, and the citizens of Chestnut Cove were venturing outside again, picking their way around snowdrifts—or, in the case of two little boys in puffy coats and thick scarves, launching into an energetic snowball fight that had passersby laughing and ducking. Someone had flipped on the twinkle lights strung around town, and the animated Santa Claus on the corner was waving and ho-ho-hoing to everyone who passed.
Natalie didn’t see Gabe at first—not the flash of dark hair, or the broad shoulders that rose above the other pedestrians. His head was bent against the cold, his nose buried in the plaid scarf he wore so well. Natalie’s eyes were glued to him as he rounded the corner and approached The Mistletoe House, and when she saw him turn and continue up the inn’s sidewalk, she bounded out of her room, flew down the staircase, and yanked open the front door just as he held up his hand to knock.
“Hi.” He looked at her in surprise, one hand still poised in front of the door.
She smiled at him, her heart lighter than it had been all day. “Hi. I saw you coming.” It occurred to her then that he may not have been coming for her , and her cheeks flared pink.
Then he gave her a soft smile, and her embarrassment melted away. “Can I come in?”
She laughed. “It isn’t my house, so I can hardly say no.” She stepped aside as he brushed past her, bringing with him the earthy scent of pine and clean, fresh snow. He stood in the foyer, uncharacteristically awkward, his dark eyes on her face as she gave him an uncertain look.
She had just opened her mouth to say something—though she hadn’t the faintest idea what—when he beat her to the punch. “I heard about the job.” His tone was mild, neutral, as if he were merely reporting the weather, or something equally mundane. “Congratulations.” He tipped his head in acknowledgement, and her heart, which had been jackhammering mere moments ago, plummeted into her stomach.
“Thanks.” She crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly cold. “It’s just an interview, though. I don’t want to get ahead of myself.”
He nodded, his eyes solemn. “I’m sure you’ll get it. Why wouldn’t you?”
She probably would—or at the very least, she had an excellent chance. All the right qualifications, and her introductory telephone conversation with the owner of the bakery had gone very well, their personalities immediately compatible. She could have told him all of that, but instead, she changed the subject, nodding toward the frosted window. “Terrible out there today.”
“Really?” Gabe asked mildly. “I think it’s beautiful.” He brushed some of the snow from his shoulders, showering the floor around them. “I was supposed to host a clinic today for those who don’t have medical insurance, but so many people called to cancel that I ended up having to reschedule. I have the entire day off.” He was gazing into her eyes now, and the butterflies that had become a constant presence once again took flight.
Natalie nodded, unable to look away. “It must be nice to have some time to yourself. ”
“Not really.” Gabe’s gaze intensified, and she shivered. “I spend too much time by myself. I was hoping for a little company today.”
“Oh?” Natalie’s throat was dry; she could scarcely get the word out. “Are you planning to take Sophie somewhere?”
“No.” The accompanying head shake was slow, meaningful. “I had such a wonderful time the other day, I thought maybe you might be up for another outing.”
She choked out a laugh. “Another Christmas extravaganza?”
He shrugged. “Whatever you want it to be. I’d really love to see you, though.”
“Gabe.” Tears sprang to Natalie’s eyes, entirely unexpected. “I’m leaving, you know.”
“I know.” He held out his hand, and she slipped her fingers into his, the gesture intimate, automatic. “But you aren’t leaving today.”
“No,” Natalie said softly. “I’m not.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Gabe smiled, his eyes crinkling in the corners, and… was she falling in love with him? There was a lightness about her, a golden glow, a feeling of rightness with everything in the world whenever he was around. And yet, she couldn't picture them together. They were from different worlds, and there was no place for her in his.
But oh, how she wished there could be, if only for a little while.
“Shall we?” Gabe’s smile deepened as he tucked his arm around her. After she grabbed her coat and shoes, he led her to the inn’s front door, holding it open so she could slip outside into the snow squall that had suddenly kicked up. She drew her face against his chest, laughing, her nose aching, her eyes stinging from the cold.
From the cold , she repeated to herself. And not because of him.
Fifteen minutes later, after a semi-harrowing drive deeper into the mountains, Gabe’s pickup truck bounced over a final snowdrift before he pulled into the dirt lot in front of an adorable red farmhouse. A snow-covered tractor was parked beside them, and a flurry of clucks and squawks rose up from a henhouse nearby, though its occupants didn’t venture outside to greet their visitors. Acres of fields lay all around them, mostly barren except for one section that held rows of small pine trees and a sign that said Choose Your Own Christmas Tree! A couple of people were tramping through the snow, heavily bundled up against the cold as they perused the trees.
Beside the farmhouse was a barn surrounded by a wooden fence, and though Natalie could hear the muffled moos and bleats of farm animals, they remained tucked inside. Beyond that was another farmhouse, smaller and more weathered-looking, with a beautiful wraparound porch that was decorated for Christmas, and a wooden sign above the front door with Miller Farm Market etched in fading white letters.
“Here we are,” Gabe said, cutting the engine. He smiled as he gazed out over the snowy farmland. “I’ve been coming to this place since I was a kid. My mom and Carol were good friends, and we used to stop by every Sunday after church to see what fruits and vegetables were in season. Sometimes Carol would have freshly made fudge for sale—it was her secret recipe, and the taste was indescribable. My sister and I lived for that fudge when we were kids.”
“It’s a beautiful place,” Natalie said, glancing around, taking in the acres and acres of land, the farm equipment, the mountains that rose behind it. “ A lot bigger than I pictured.” She frowned at Gabe. “Walter and Carol run this place by themselves?”
“They have seasonal workers who help with the planting, harvesting… and whatever else needs to happen on a farm.” His grin was sheepish. “My knowledge on that topic is next to nothing. We came to Miller Farm to buy and eat, not to grow. But the bulk of the work they do themselves.” He shot her a curious look. “Why the interest? I was surprised you wanted to come here, of all places. I didn’t take you for an outdoorsy person.”
Natalie shrugged. “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure what I am. I get the sense I’m still figuring that out. As for why I wanted to come here?” She hesitated. “Well, Walter and Carol happened to mention it in passing, and I thought it would be fun to see the farm for myself.” She didn’t mention the job offer to Gabe, nor was she entirely sure why she wanted to visit Miller Farm in the first place. When the two of them had left The Mistletoe House, Gabe asked what she might like to do, and this was the first thing that came to mind.
Gabe spread his arms wide. “Well, here it is. Shall we go inside? Now I’ve got fudge on the brain, and it might just be my lucky day.” He slid out from behind the wheel, then rounded the truck to help Natalie navigate the slick lot. Someone—presumably Walter—had shoveled the parking area and thrown down some salt, but a few patches of ice remained. Natalie clung to Gabe’s arm as they headed for the shop, and a blast of warmth hit them as they stepped inside.
“Welcome to M—oh! Hello there.” Carol waved merrily at them from behind the counter. “What a wonderful surprise! I was just telling Walter that I hoped we’d have some visitors today. Most folks don’t want to venture out in weather like this, and it makes for a long day. You know me, I like the company.”
“And I like the fudge,” Gabe said, rubbing his hands together gleefully as he spied the display case filled with at least ten different varieties of homemade fudge. He made a beeline for it while Natalie began perusing the shelves stocked with delicate glass jars of jams, jellies, and preserves, each wrapped with a Christmas-themed bow and arranged by variety. She was debating whether she wanted to try apricot or blackberry preserves—or maybe both, and a raspberry one too—when Carol sidled up to her with a smile.
“Are you reconsidering our offer?” she asked in a voice that carried across the room.
Natalie winced and glanced over at Gabe, whose attention was concentrated so fully on Carol’s fudge that she was positive he hadn’t heard a thing. Then she shook her head. “No,” she said softly, ignoring the twist of guilt in her stomach. Guilt, and something else too… something that felt a lot like regret. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too.” Carol patted her arm. “We would have had a lot of fun.” There was no annoyance in her tone, but the second twist of guilt was sharper than the first. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d better see what that man of yours is doing,” she added, pointing toward the counter.
Natalie opened her mouth to correct the older woman—Gabe wasn’t her man, as lovely as that would have been—but Carol was gone before she could fully form the sentence. Instead, she watched the two of them for a while, Gabe pointing eagerly to the fudge, Carol laughing as she cut him an enormous slab, both sharing some inside joke that Natalie had no part of.
But deep down, she knew that she did want to be part of it. Desperately.
Her eyes lingered on them for a few more seconds, then she wandered over to a gently boiling pot of hot apple cider that sat alongside paper cups and a selection of sugar cookies Natalie immediately recognized from The Chestnut Café. As Gabe and Carol continued to talk, she ladled a generous portion of the cider into a cup, then savored its warmth between her hands before raising it to her lips and taking a long, leisurely sip. The flavor was wonderful—cinnamon and orange peel, brown sugar, a hint of cloves? Natalie couldn’t be sure, but a second sip soon followed, then a third, and before long, the cup had been emptied and refilled two more times.
“You ready to head out?” Gabe’s breath was warm on her ear as she turned to find him standing beside her, holding three containers filled to the brim with fudge.
“You’ve got quite the appetite,” she said with a smile, nodding toward the containers.
“I wish,” he replied with a look of regret. He held up the first container. “This one is for me.” Then the second. “This is for some of my homebound patients—they haven’t tasted Carol’s fudge in a while, and I know they miss it.” The third container, he gently placed in her hands. “And this one is for you. To remember us by.”
Natalie stared down at the fudge, tears filling her eyes, feeling ridiculous because this was fudge , for crying out loud. “I don’t know what to say,” she whispered. She dimly registered Carol watching the two of them from behind the counter as she raised a shaky hand to wipe her eyes. “You’re a wonderful man, Gabe. Thank you.”
He gave her a gentle, teasing prod to the side with his elbow. “It’s just fudge,” he said softly. With the pad of one thumb, he blotted the lone tear trailing down her cheek, and at his touch, her eyes drifted closed as she lost herself in the moment. Then reality slammed back into her— hard —and her eyes flew open again. He was watching her, his gaze tracing her face, and Carol was now motionless behind the counter, as if she feared even the slightest movement would disturb this moment.
“It’s not just fudge,” she said, wiping the remaining tears away with a rough swipe of her coat sleeve. “It’s… it’s everything . From the moment we met, you’ve treated me with such kindness. You’ve welcomed me into your community, and made me feel like one of your own. You made me feel like I had a family, and…” She hesitated, a lump forming at the base of her throat as she glanced away. “Well, that’s something I haven’t felt in a long time.”
Carol was tiptoeing backward through a swinging door behind the counter, leaving just the two of them. Gabe’s gaze was intense, penetrating, as if he were looking into her soul. “Stay,” he murmured, raising his hand once more, his fingers brushing her cheek, tracing the lines of her jaw. “Please. Let’s see what this could become.”
“I can’t.” Natalie glanced away again, the lump in her throat now a balloon threatening to cut off all air supply. “Chestnut Cove is a beautiful place, but for me, it’s different. It reminds me of a time in my life... a difficult time… that I’ve spent so long trying to overcome. That I’ve spent so long trying to forget.”
“Talk to me.” Gabe took a step closer, electrifying the air around them with his presence. “Let me help you. Let me understand.”
“No,” she said sharply, automatically. “I don’t talk about it. Ever.” The last word was spoken in a whisper, but the finality of it rang throughout the room louder than any gong.
Gabe was silent for several long moments, then he nodded, his eyes never leaving her face. There was sadness in them, and understanding too, and it was all Natalie could do not to break down completely. He reached out, his fingers brushing the ends of her hair, his eyes roaming over her face as if he was trying to memorize everything about her.
“If you can’t stay,” he murmured, “then let’s enjoy whatever time we have left.”