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

“You think?”


She rose. He released her reluctantly, wanting to feel her next to him. Time was moving more quickly every day. It was already the 22nd. He was scheduled to leave before New Year’s. What had been weeks was now days and soon it would be hours.

“All right,” she said. “We need to get organized. The best way to do this is to set up wrapping stations. It takes more time up front, but then the whole process will go more quickly. I’ll clear the table for actual wrapping. We’ll do ribbon in the kitchen and then stack the presents on my desk in the office.”

She reached down and scooped up one of the kittens. “All the better to keep little paws and claws away from anything tempting.” She stroked the kitten as she spoke.

She turned back to him. “Start going through the boxes. Get everything sorted by size. There are gift cards over there.” She pointed with her free hand. “You can write those first so we’ll know who gets what present.”

She carried the kitten into the small office and came back with her laptop. She set it by the sink and logged on to her email program. “Oh, look. Word is spreading about Pia’s baby.”

He still had no clue who Pia was, but liked that Noelle was excited for her. Mayor Marsha had been right—this town looked out for its own.

His conversation with the older woman still left him feeling unsettled. She knew too much, and he couldn’t figure out where she got her information. But rather than trying to figure it out, he’d decided to instead simply enjoy the cards.

“There’s a picture!”

He looked up and saw Noelle pointing to the screen. He rose and walked over to see the grainy picture of the newborn. His skin was red, his eyes tightly closed. But he was beautiful. New life, Gabriel thought.

Noelle handed him the kitten. “I have to go to the bathroom. Yell if any more pictures come in.”

He took the kitten. “You’ll be gone thirty seconds,” he teased. “You can’t go that long without knowing if there’s a new picture?”

She planted her hands on her hips. “Do you or do you not want help wrapping all your presents?”

He chuckled. “I’ll yell if another one comes in.”

“Thank you.”

He watched her walk away, enjoying the sway of her hips and the careful way she stepped over all the obstructions—both living and inanimate. Her place was a mess and it was mostly his fault, he thought. Once they got the packages wrapped, he would drive them up to his brother’s. He’d also been thinking he should ask Gideon to put out the word on the older kittens. They were starting to eat regular food, which meant they would soon be old enough to be adopted. He knew Noelle was thinking of keeping the two mother cats, but there was no way she could handle them and the kittens, too.

Her computer pinged. He turned back and saw an email had come in. He clicked on it, thinking he would see another picture of the newborn, only to be confronted with three stark sentences.

Dr. Nelson confirmed it. The cancer is back and it’s bad. I wish there was better news.

Gabriel’s vision sharpened to a single pinpoint of light. All he saw was the email. The words blurred, then sharpened and he understood immediately what had happened. The AML had returned. While it was unlikely, it could happen. What he hadn’t known was that she’d been worried and had been checked out by someone. She hadn’t said a word.

His gut twisted, even as his mind denied the obvious truth. He thought about all she’d been through already. Of the picture she’d shown him and her talking about nearly dying. He thought about everything she’d lost and how she’d just figured out how to have a new life. She was happy, he thought bitterly, furious at the unfairness of the situation. She didn’t deserve this.

Friends would rally, he knew. The town would be there for her, but that wasn’t the same as family. As having someone she could depend on.

“Any news?”

He turned and saw her walking back into the living room. She looked fine. Alert, healthy. Her color was good and it was all a lie.

“Marry me,” he said, not sure where the words had come from, but meaning them. “Marry me. I’ll stay. I’ll take care of you. I can handle it, Noelle. I won’t leave. I’m not Jeremy. You can trust me to stay.”

Her brows drew together. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“You don’t have to pretend. I saw the email. You’ve been to a doctor.”

“What? No, I haven’t.”

“It’s right here,” he said, pointing to the computer. “I want to help. I want to be here for you.”

* * *

Noelle felt as if she’d walked into the middle of a movie where everyone knew the plot but her. Gabriel looked shell-shocked, but clear-eyed. She would guess he didn’t have a head injury. But still. Something was really wrong with the man.