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

* * *

Noelle studied the tall man in front of her. He’d been pale the last time she’d seen him, but now she would swear there was a gray cast to his skin. The shadows under his eyes seemed darker and his mouth was pulled in what she would guess was pain.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine. Jet-lagged. Felicia is going to take me back up the mountain when she gets off at five.”

Noelle winced. That was three hours away. “It’s my fault,” she told him. “I shouldn’t have let you drive me back to town.”

“I wasn’t going to have you drive yourself and crash.”

“I might have made it.”

“Might being the operative word. I’ll be fine.”

“No offense, but you don’t look fine. Are you sure I can’t drive you back?” She held up her hand. “Never mind. I already know what you’re going to say.”

The worst part was, he was right. Until she got some more practice, she shouldn’t be doing any winter driving outside of the plowed streets of town. But she couldn’t leave the poor man swaying from exhaustion.

“Come on,” she said, motioning for him to follow her.

She led the way to the back room, where she kept extra inventory and had a small break area with a table and four chairs.

The table was actually salvaged from an estate sale in town. Noelle loved the deep mahogany finish and the graceful legs, but what had most appealed to her was the writing etched into the top. As if the previous owner had spent long hours writing letters.

Now she pulled a blanket from the pile on one of the chairs and folded it into the shape of a pillow, then pointed to the sofa. “It’s more comfortable than it looks.”

Gabriel shook his head. “I’m fine.” He seemed more wary than interested in resting.

“You’re practically unconscious. This is a Christmas store. I really can’t be explaining the strange man slumped on the middle of my floor.” She collected a second blanket. “You don’t have anything else to do until Felicia picks you up. Come on. No one will bother you here.”

“You’re coaxing me. I’m not some wild dog you’re trying to rescue.”

She grinned. “I can’t help it. It’s a girl thing.”

He grumbled something under his breath, then finally walked to the sofa and shrugged out of his jacket. He lay down. He was too tall to stretch out, but he was able to turn on his side, with his legs not too bunched. She draped the second blanket on top of him.

“You don’t have to sleep.”

“I won’t.”

“Of course not. I’ll be back a little before five.”

She walked out of the storage room and went to help her customers. They each bought two bears. A family with a toddler in a stroller came in and wanted to talk about the train set. Ten minutes later they left with one, along with three holiday DVDs and an angel doll for their young daughter. Noelle tiptoed back into the storage room to check on her guest.

Gabriel’s eyes were closed and he didn’t stir as she approached. Good, she thought as she backed out toward the front of the store. He needed the rest. It was the best way to heal. While she’d never been cut as badly as he had, she knew something about what it took the body to recover.

* * *

The afternoon passed quickly. Noelle was kept busy with customers and brainstorming sales and events. Important when one was in retail, she thought. About ten minutes before five, she walked into the break room and stopped by the sofa. Gabriel didn’t look as if he’d moved at all, but his color was better and some of the tension seemed to have faded. She put a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey,” she began, her voice soft. “It’s nearly—”

He sat up instantly, his eyes wide with alarm. “What?”

She kept her voice low and calm. “It’s Noelle. You’re in my store. You’ve been sleeping.”

His dark blue gaze locked on her face. “I cut my hand. I don’t have a brain injury.”

“Just checking,” she told him as she straightened and walked to the refrigerator. She took out her pitcher of water and poured him a glass. “Felicia phoned. She’ll be here in about ten minutes.”

He shifted until he was facing front. “She didn’t have to leave work early for me.”

Noelle handed him the glass. “It’s nearly five. You’ve been asleep for three hours.”

Gabriel took the glass. “I was tired,” he admitted. “Thanks for letting me crash.”

She turned one of the dining chairs toward him and sat down. As always, by the end of the day, her feet were ready for a break.

“It’s the least I could do,” she told him. “You drove me down the mountain. Of course I could have done you in with an umbrella and chose not to, so maybe you owe me.”

“Not likely.”