Christmas on 4th Street (Fool's Gold #12.5)

“If I have to.”


She spotted her panties and her bra and scooped them up. She wasn’t sure what had happened in the past half dozen hours, but whatever it was, it was bad. Last night Gabriel had been a warm, attentive lover. This morning he was acting as if she’d done something wrong. Or as if she wanted something unreasonable from him.

She knew neither was true and refused to let herself go there. Something was bugging Gabriel. For all she knew, it had nothing to do with her. Or maybe their great two days together had rattled him to the point where he couldn’t cope. On the surface, he was a smart, charming guy. But underneath, he was as wounded as the soldiers he treated. Either way, she wasn’t taking the blame for something she didn’t do.

She retreated to the bathroom and dressed quickly. When she stepped back into the main room, he was gone. She told herself that if he wanted to shovel them back to town, she wished him luck.

She spent the next hour taking care of the little cabin. She fed the cats, then let them out. She washed dishes, made coffee and generally straightened up. She’d already made a list of the supplies they’d used so she could replace them later. She would talk to Mayor Marsha about how to do that. No one wanted her driving back to the cabin while there was snow on the ground.

When all that was done, she settled on the floor and played with the older kittens. They were alert and curious. As they hadn’t been around people before, they’d started out a little wary of her, but a rousing game of string had them crawling all over her and settling into her lap for a quick snooze.

Sometime after seven, Gabriel returned. He was chilled and breathing hard.

“The truck is clear,” he told her as he pulled off his cap and shrugged out of his coat. “The plow will be here in the next couple of hours. They’re already working on Mother Bear Road.”

She watched him as he spoke, hoping to see a smile or some sign that whatever was bothering him had worked itself out. But he barely looked at her as he shrugged out of his layers.

“There’s coffee,” she told him, pointing to the pot. “I’ve cleaned up and stripped the bed.” She was planning on taking the sheets with her so she could wash them.

He glanced around at the empty casserole dishes, the neatly tied trash and the folded sheets. “I would have helped,” he told her.

“You were busy.”

For a second he looked at her. She waited, barely breathing, hoping for something. A smile, a hint that what they’d had so briefly still existed. But then he turned away and the moment was lost.

* * *

Nine cats were not easily corralled. The smallest kittens protested at being put in the box, but couldn’t do much about it. The older kittens wanted to explore and scramble out. The mother cats had no interest in taking a drive. After several false starts, Noelle and Gabriel stood in the center of the cabin no closer to getting the animals loaded than they had been at the start. The difference was he was pissed and she couldn’t stop giggling.

“This isn’t funny,” he told her as he reached for one of the larger kittens again.

The animal went easily into the box, then just as quickly jumped out. Both mother cats were under the bed, yowling their protests at this kind of behavior.

Noelle laughed, then picked up the box. “Stop. Just stop. This isn’t working.” The truck was already loaded with everything else. They just needed to get the cats in order.

“I’ll sit in the backseat,” she said. “I’ll put the box of little kittens next to me. You can pass me the other kittens one by one through the window. Bring the mother cats last. I’ll keep them out of your way while we drive back to town.”

One of the mother cats poked her head out from under the bed, saw the box and promptly retreated. Gabriel rubbed his temple.

“That might work,” he admitted.

She put on her coat and took the box. He grabbed a couple of mobile kittens and started after her. When she was in the backseat, she reached for the kittens and held them on her lap.

Five minutes later all nine cats were in the rear cab of the truck, and Gabriel had gotten behind the wheel. The plow had been through, clearing the road. Noelle put on her seat belt and did her best to reassure the two families.

“This won’t take long,” she told them. “We’ll be home soon.”

Unfortunately, home was a strange place with no feline supplies, but there was no reason for them to know that. He started the engine, and they slowly drove down the freshly plowed road.