Page 71 of River Wild

I call Buddy back in when the kettle boils, and he trots off into the living room. I make River’s coffee and my tea and carry them back through.

I put his on the coffee table—the part that isn’t covered in Christmas tree branches.

And I sit down on the floor, Buddy at my feet, and start unwrapping the protective paper and bubble wrap from the ornaments. Then, I get the lights out of the box, untangling them, ready for hanging.

Then, River’s done trimming the tree. I help him gather up the trimmed branches and take them to the trash can outside.

We walk back in. He picks up his coffee, draining the cup. Puts it down and walks to the front door.

Guess he’s leaving.

I follow him to the door.

“Thanks for everything today,” I tell him. “I really appreciate it. I owe you big time.”

“You don’t owe me a thing, Red.” And he’s walking away, toward his house.

“Bye,” I call after him.

The only response I receive is a lift of his hand.

That is progress in itself. Normally, he’d just ignore me completely.

I shut the door and go back inside. I bend down to pick the lights up from beside the box when something catches my eye on the inside of it. Something that wasn’t there earlier.

The glass train.

I kneel beside the box. I reach inside and carefully pick it up. It’s so beautiful. Even more so than I realized.

My eyes move to the front door River just left through.

Did he …

Surely not …

But it wasn’t there before.

I know it wasn’t. I unwrapped every single one of those ornaments.

And I definitely didn’t buy it. And there’s no way it could’ve gotten in there by accident.

I gently place the train back in the box and get to my feet.

“Be back in a minute, Bud.” I pat him on the head before leaving my house.

I walk quickly over to River’s house and ring the bell.

He swings open the door a few seconds later. I notice he hasn’t even had a chance to take off his shoes.

Something catches me in this moment. I don’t quite know what it is exactly. Maybe his kindness. Or the good heart he hides. Whatever it is, it takes my words right along with it.

“Carrie, what’s up? Is the baby okay?” Worried eyes flick to my stomach and back up to my face.

“The baby’s fine,” I reassure him. “Just … the train … from the store … the one I liked. It’s in the box with the other ornaments, and it wasn’t there before.”

His face stays impassive. “Are you sure it wasn’t there before?”

“Yes. I unwrapped each and every one of those ornaments, and it definitely wasn’t there.”