“Be happy, cousin,” Greel said, Tark nodding along. “You deserve it.”
Dungar grunted. “Carla belongs here. Make sure you tell her that for us, will you?”
“Will do.”
After they left, I arranged the dishes on the table, uncovering each to release their amazing aromas, finding fluffy scrambled chumble eggs, cragroot fritters, some kind of breakfast pudding that smelled amazing, and thick slices of drundeg. The cinnamon rolls went in the center.
The snow globe came last, wrapped in tissue paper and a box adorned with a big red bow. I carefully laid it beside Carla’s place.
I tweaked the bow, remembering how her voice had caught when she told me about her mother’s snow globe, howsomething so small had represented her only real connection to Christmas joy.
Now I could give it back to her.
I couldn’t ignore the importance of what I was about to do. After losing Wexla, I’d sworn I would never love and risk facing more pain. I’d come to the surface to escape memories, not to create new ones. To exist, never to live.
Yet here I stood, my heart pounding with anticipation, preparing to offer everything I had to a human woman I’d known for less than a month. A woman with her own dreams and ambitions, who might choose California and her career over Lonesome Creek and me.
Wexla’s face appeared in my memory, not as she’d been in her final days, but as she’d lived. I smiled as I remembered her laughing, creating, and loving life. She’d made me promise not to let grief become my permanent home, not to waste whatever time I had left merely existing.
“You were right,” I whispered to the empty room. “I’m trying.”
Outside, the sky had begun to turn pink and gold. Christmas morning had arrived, plus the moment of truth.
The walk to the hotel felt both too long and too short, my thoughts alternating between hope and doubt with each step. What if she hated the surprise? The management position I’d offer her might not be enough to compete with the glorious job in California.
I could bare my heart only to watch her walk away.
The first floor of the saloon was empty, though it would soon fill with tourists coming to savor a hearty holiday breakfast. I could hear Lavon whistling inside the kitchen as he prepared a variety of dishes. I climbed the stairs to the second floor, each step bringing me closer to a future I couldn’t predict but desperately needed.
Outside her door, I stopped to gather my courage. I smoothed my clothing. My hair. Then I knocked.
Footsteps approached from the other side, and the door swung open. Carla peeked out at me, dressed in jeans and her Christmas sweater with the red-nosed reindeer. Her hair fell loose around her shoulders, and her face was still soft from sleep.
She was the most beautiful person I’d ever seen.
“Becken. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas.” I swallowed and it went down too hard. “If you’re not busy, I have something to show you.”
“At six in the morning on Christmas Day?” Her smile lit something warm in my chest. “Mysteriously, my schedule is wide open.”
“Good.” I offered my hand. “Come with me?”
After tugging on her coat and zipping it up, she took my hand, her smaller fingers fitted perfectly between mine.
We walked through the quiet town, fresh snow crunching beneath our boots, while the eastern sky blazed with color, promising a clear, bright Christmas Day.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“It’s a surprise.”
“I’ve never been big on surprises.”
“You’ll like this one.” I hoped. “Trust me?”
She squeezed my hand. “Of course.”
My heart clenched. Trust wasn’t something Carla offered easily, yet she’d given it to me without hesitation.
