Chapter 19
CHAPTER 19
“ I t’s here, honey. I went upstairs and had a look around your room, and sure enough, I found it right there in the nightstand, like you said.”
Faith Holiday’s voice was tinny over the phone, and Natalie sagged against her hotel room door in relief. After yet another round of frantic searching, she’d called The Mistletoe House—and then, when Faith hadn’t answered, she’d called three more times, and left three increasingly panicked messages, until the innkeeper had finally returned her call. Somewhere along the way, she’d remembered that she left the angel by her bed at the inn, and in her haste to pack, she’d completely forgotten it was there.
“Today’s Christmas Eve, so the post office is closed, but I can ship it to you first thing on the 26th,” Faith was saying as Natalie tried to catch her breath. “If you just give me your address, I’ll write it down and?—”
“No,” Natalie cut in, shaking her head vigorously, though only she could see it. “No, I can’t risk something happening to it in the mail. It could get lost, it could get broken, just… no.” She glanced out her hotel window at the sky; snow clouds were looming overhead, and the day had turned gray and blustery. She estimated she had only a few hours left before the mountain roads around Chestnut Cove turned impassible, but if she left right now…
“I’m coming,” she practically shouted into the phone as she embarked on a frenzied search for her car keys before finding them in her own pocket. “I’m coming right now.” She yanked open her door and jogged down the hall. “Give me ninety minutes.”
“Okay,” Faith said, “but honey, I?—”
But the rest of her sentence was cut off, because Natalie was already in the elevator, and her phone had lost its signal. She debated calling back, then decided against it. That would only slow her down, and right now, she didn’t have a single second to waste.
The snow was falling gently by the time Natalie arrived in Chestnut Cove, though the meteorologists on the radio were gleefully predicting blizzard conditions by midnight. As she parked her car in front of The Mistletoe House, Natalie noticed that the cobblestone sidewalks in the town’s main square were strangely empty, absent the usual hustle and bustle she’d witnessed in the lead-up to Christmas.
Most everyone was tucked up at home with their families, she suspected, enjoying the final hours of Christmas Eve, and a shroud of sadness clung to her as she slipped out from behind the wheel and headed toward the inn, alone. Somewhere in the distance, church bells began their slow, mournful toll, and it was with a heavy heart that she knocked once on the inn’s front door before pushing it open and stepping inside.
A warm, cozy glow immediately descended on her, the flickering lights from the Christmas tree casting dancing shadows on the floor. Faith must have spent the afternoon baking, because the impossibly delicious scent of cookies filled the air, along with a hint of spiced cider. Breathing in deeply, Natalie made her way to the front desk, preparing to ring the bell to summon Faith before noticing a single sheet of paper beside it, her name printed across the top in the older woman’s neat handwriting.
Natalie,
You left our conversation so quickly that I didn’t have a chance to tell you I wouldn’t be home today—I volunteered to set up the Christmas Eve community dinner at my church following this evening’s service. I didn’t want to leave your precious ornament unattended, so I’ve asked Gabe to keep it safe. He’s waiting at his house for you whenever you arrive.
Merry Christmas, honey, and a blessed New Year.
Faith
Natalie read the note, then reread it twice more, her finger tracing over Gabe’s name. She hadn’t anticipated seeing him. In fact, she’d had no intentions of letting him know she was back in town. It was too painful, too unnecessary. Too brief. She had half a mind to ask Faith to mail the angel instead, but the thought of it getting lost or damaged was unbearable, and so she had no choice but to follow Faith’s instructions. No choice but to come face to face with Gabe once again, and suddenly, as she stood in The Mistletoe House, surrounded by tinsel and lights and Santa Clauses and holiday cheer, that idea didn’t seem like a tragedy.
It seemed like… an opportunity. Like fate. Like maybe, just maybe, it was meant to happen this way all along.
“Thanks, Mom,” she whispered to the Christmas tree, knowing instinctually that they could hear her. That they were out there somewhere, waiting, watching. “Thanks, Daddy.”
Then Natalie tucked the note into the pocket of her coat for safekeeping before turning on her heel and hurrying back to her car. The soft glow of twilight was descending over Chestnut Cove as she drove through the quiet streets, the coral rays of sunset giving way to a dusky mauve that provided a showstopping backdrop to the snowcapped mountains surrounding the town she’d come to love. Her heart was beating dully at the base of her throat as she pulled up to Gabe’s cabin and parked behind his pickup truck, gripping the steering wheel and taking deep, steadying breaths, her mind racing, her head and her heart at odds with each other...
No , Natalie realized, quite abruptly. No. For the first time since she’d met him, there was no internal battle waging, no push-and-pull, no war between what she wanted—quietly, desperately—and what she feared. There was just… peace. For once, there was just peace.
Knot of anticipation in her stomach, tiniest flicker of hope in her soul, she climbed the steps to Gabe’s front porch?—
And only when she raised a hand to knock on the door did she realize that something was wrong. Different, and wrong, and very, very wrong .
There were no lights strung around the pine trees outside, no candles glowing softly in the windows. No wreath adorning the door, no snowman family waving from the front yard. No Santa Claus on the roof, no twinkling reindeer in the front yard. Instead, the exterior of Gabe’s house was entirely bare.
Frowning, feeling slightly panicked but not entirely sure why, Natalie banged on the door repeatedly until she heard footsteps approaching on the other side. The door swung open, and Gabe was standing there, and in a single moment of vulnerability, she saw the hope in his eyes—and the uncertainty, too, the fear that she was going to leave again. This time, permanently, like she had promised.
“Hi,” he whispered, his gaze never leaving her face .
A beat while she stared at him, unable to tear her eyes away from his. “Hi.”
He stepped back from the door. “Did you want to come in?” he asked, his voice hesitant. “Faith dropped off your angel a little while ago. She told me what happened—I’m sorry you had to drive all the way back here.”
Ignoring this, Natalie gestured behind her to the front yard. “Where are all your Christmas decorations?” Then, glancing inside the cabin for the first time, she saw that every last surface was bare. Everything was gone. Everything. There was no sign of Christmas anywhere, other than the tree in the corner—bare except for a wilting star, its lights in a tangle at its base.
Breath hitching at the base of her throat, she stared at him. “Why?”
He took a step toward her, his eyes locked on hers, misery etched on every inch of his face. “Natalie… please,” he said, his voice low, rough. “Please, just listen to me. I love Christmas—I’ve always loved Christmas, but… but I fell in love with you.” He took her hand, and electricity zinged down her spine. “And that’s more important to me than any holiday. You’re more important to me than any holiday. If you take me back, Natalie, I swear, I’ll never utter the word ‘Christmas’ in your presence again. I’ll never decorate the house, or trim the tree, or do any of those things, because at the end of the day, I know with everything I have that you are my soulmate. You are my person. And that will always, always , be enough.”
He took another step toward her, his face desperate. “So please, Natalie. Please, come inside. Please, just… stay.” He reached for her, but Natalie took a step back, away from his touch, and his hand grasped only air instead. The hope was gone from his eyes in an instant; his expression shuttered.
“No,” Natalie said softly, shaking her head. “No, Gabe, that’s not what I want. That’s not who you are.” It was her turn to move closer to him, and the hope on his face reignited, his soul was laid bare at her feet, and the air around them took on a shimmering quality, charged, electric in its intensity.
When she spoke next, her voice was soft but firm. “On the drive here—and for the past few days, really—I’ve had a chance to think about things. I’ve had a chance to remember, and I know, I know , that this life, the one I’ve been living… it’s not the one my parents would have wanted for me. And more importantly, it’s not the one I want for myself.” Her eyes were blazing into his, and he didn’t look away, di dn’t even blink, as if he didn’t dare to break the connection.
“I loved Christmas,” she said, a single tear slipping down her cheek. “I loved it then, and I think… I think I could love it again, if I give myself a chance. If I take things slowly… very, very slowly,” she said with a laugh, closing her eyes against Gabe’s touch as he reached out to brush away her tears.
She caught his hand before he could withdraw it, and held on tight. “Will you help me do that, Gabe?” she whispered. “Will you help me try?” She swallowed hard. “And if I fail, will you just… be with me? And tell me it’s okay?”
He nodded solemnly. “I will. I promise you, Natalie, I swear it—I will.”
She didn’t respond. Instead, she stepped around him, reaching for the velvet box on the table beside the front door, the one that contained the most precious thing she possessed. She lifted the lid, a smile curving her lips as she gazed down at that little angel, so plain yet so beautiful, wondrous, a true miracle, a message from the beyond. Then she removed it from the box and walked over to the bare tree, standing on tiptoe as she gently, reverently, raised it to the very top, hanging it in a place of honor just below the star .
“Your new home,” she whispered, stepping back to admire the effect, the tears falling freely down her face—tears for everything she had lost, all the pain, the sadness, the grief she had endured, but tears of hope, too, and the promise of a better future, brighter, filled with happiness and light. And above all, filled with love. The kind of love that only came around once in a lifetime, the kind of love meant to last. The kind of love that could move mountains, and bring back the magic of Christmas to a little girl who lost it so long ago.
She didn’t know when Gabe came to stand behind her, but suddenly his arms were around her, safe, secure, and she leaned into him briefly before turning to face him, stroking his hair, his face, reveling in this man, this love, this perfect moment.
“Merry Christmas, Gabe,” she whispered.
He brushed away the last of her tears, then cupped her face in his hands, his eyes bright. “Merry Christmas, Natalie.”
The first kiss was a tentative brush of lips, warm and soft, perfect, but the one that followed?
Well, that was a kiss that made the angels sing.