Christmas on 4th Street: Christmas on 4th Street / Yours for Christmas

Noelle nodded at the nice, handsome doctor before he turned away and retreated to the guest room. She sighed, thinking it just wasn’t fair. He was single—at least she thought he was—she was single. She wasn’t sure what else they had in common, but there had to be something. Regardless, she obviously hadn’t impressed him in the least.

Oh, well. There were worse fates, she told herself. Just as soon as her busy season was over, she was going to get into a relationship. Maybe she would join one of those online dating services, or see if there were clubs for singles in town. If nothing else, she could put the word out with her friends. Most of them had recently fallen madly in love.

Maybe there was something in the water, she thought as Gabriel walked toward her, taller now in sensible-looking snow boots.

“Keys,” he said as he approached.

She dutifully held them out. “I’m sure once I’m out of the snowbank I’ll be fine.”

“I doubt that,” he said, shrugging into his jacket. “You’ll be a menace until you hit flat ground.”

“That’s not very flattering.”

He looked at her, his blue gaze steady. “Isn’t it true?”

“Sure it is, but you’re being kind of blunt about it.”

“I thought you liked blunt.”

“Not as much as I thought.”

She made sure Webster was secure in the house before closing the door and following Gabriel to her car. He told her to wait while he backed the car out of the snow, which he did in one easy move. The tires didn’t even skid—something she considered a personal betrayal. When she got her car back in the garage, they were going to have a little one-on-one conversation.

Gabriel stopped beside her and opened the passenger door. She climbed in, instantly struck by how close the seats were and how much broader his shoulders were than hers. She fastened her seat belt and as she did, she glanced at him.

He had a nice face, she decided. A little guarded and there were shadows under his eyes, no doubt from his hand injury and maybe traveling. But he was someone she would instinctively trust. Not that her instincts were anything to brag about, she thought. Look what had happened with Jeremy.

Or not, she thought, facing front.

“Is that the way?” he asked, motioning with his left hand.

Instantly, she felt herself getting woozy. “Be careful with that,” she murmured. “It’s like a weapon.”

He glanced at the bandage. “There’s hardly any blood.”

She leaned back and closed her eyes. “Just the B word itself is bad. Yes, go down this road about three or four miles. At the bend in the road, turn right. Follow the signs and you’ll be heading into town.”

She pressed a hand to her stomach and told herself to think pure thoughts. Or at the very least, distract herself.

“You picked a really good time to visit,” she said, knowing she was about to babble and not caring. Babbling was better than fainting. Or throwing up. “There are always festivals in Fool’s Gold, but more so during the holidays. There are a couple of parades and a live nativity. I can’t wait for that because there’s going to be an elephant.”

“In a nativity?”

“Don’t judge. You don’t know for sure there wasn’t an elephant at the birth of baby Jesus.”

“I’m actually pretty confident there wasn’t.”

“Priscilla is a part of a lot of celebrations in town. She’s a member of the community, too.”

“Priscilla the elephant?”

“Do you know any other Priscillas?” She risked opening her eyes and was pleased to see that there was no bloody bandage in her peripheral vision.

“She would be the only one.”

“Okay, turn there,” she said, pointing when they reached the bend. “Follow that road into town. You’ll turn right on Frank Lane.”

“Who’s Frank?”

“I have no idea. It’s by 4th, which is where my store is. But yeah, Frank. I guess there’s more town history I have to learn.”

“You know about the elephant. That should count.”

He was nice, she thought, wondering if there was a subtle way to ask him to coffee. Or dinner. She glanced at his large hands resting on the steering wheel and wondered how badly things would go if she mentioned a sleepover.

She pointed to her store, and he pulled in front and parked the car.

She turned to him, prepared to offer a heartfelt thank-you, only to realize there was a problem. “How are you going to get back to Gideon’s house?”

“I thought I’d go find Felicia.”

She risked a quick glance at his hand, then turned away before she got faint. “Are you up to it?”

“I’ll be fine. Just point me in the right direction.”

She looked into his eyes and smiled. “I thought you didn’t believe in that.”

“My concerns were specifically about your driving.”

“I want to take offense at that, but there’s the whole snowbank issue that makes it less valid.”

They got out of the car and she gave him directions to Felicia’s office. He handed over her car keys.

“Thanks for the ride back,” she said, wishing she was better at the boy-girl thing. She used to be relatively okay at it. Obviously the lack of practice was showing. “I hope we run into each other again. Not literally,” she added, glancing at the snow still lodged in her fender.

“I’d like that,” he said.

She returned her attention to him, trying to judge what he was thinking. But his dark blue eyes gave nothing away. He smiled and gave a wave, then turned and started in the direction she’d told him.

Noelle watched him go. When he turned the corner, she hurried toward her store, only to come to a stop when she saw the sign on the door.

Gone skiing. Come back later.

Chapter 2 (#ulink_cc527a8b-9ce9-5eda-9ccf-2d04cfa1ff2b)

The town of Fool’s Gold was like something out of a cheesy made-for-TV movie, Gabriel thought as he followed Noelle’s directions. There were plenty of people on the streets and every single one he passed greeted him in some way. Women walked arm in arm, the sidewalks were shoveled and sanded and all the storefronts were decorated with turkeys or leaves or painted with some Thanksgiving tableau. Talk about surreal. He half expected dancing lampposts or singing forest creatures to escort him.

The last time he’d seen his brother, Gideon had been malnourished, bruised and mentally shattered. His brother had been taken prisoner by the Taliban and kept for nearly two years. He’d been in a cell with several other Americans, all of whom had been tortured regularly. Gideon had been the only one to survive.