“I’m happy where I am, thanks.”
He saved her from the freezing water. He tolerated Christmas, maybe even learned to like it… The dance. The almost-kiss. He wanted love. Her love.
For the first time in her life, Kate didn’t know if she wanted to share her love with another person. A friendship was one thing, romance was quite another. Especially on Christmas. Christmas gave everything a Heaven-touched glow; it sang of forever.
Her thoughts tore at one another in a bench-clearing brawl as Miss Carolyn stepped down from the podium and the crowd returned to their singing.
I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old familiar carols play
And mild and sweet their songs repeat
Of peace on earth, good will to men.
“I don’t know if I like that song,” Kate said, scrunching up her nose. She never met a Christmas song she didn’t like, but this one always rubbed her the wrong way. Clark chuckled, sending white puffs of warm air out into the dark night air. The temperature was dropping rapidly. Kate didn’t know how much longer she could hold out before shivering took hold of her, especially after her dip in the river this afternoon. Billy McGee at the general store had sworn up and down this coat would protect her against any weather Miller’s Point could produce. She’d have to call him up about his 30-Day Satisfaction Guarantee.
“Why? What’s wrong with it?”
“Peace on earth, good will to men,” Kate shrugged and finally sat up. After goodness-knew how long resting on his chest, she finally stitched herself together enough to support her own weight again. Instant regret flooded her. A chill a minute ago turned into full-on shivering with the sudden loss of their shared body heat. “They don’t seem to care about women.”
“I care about one of them.”
A bolt of light broke the darkness around them, invisible to anyone but Kate. Her foolish, wanting heart wanted to throw herself in his arms and kiss him. It clung to that light, never wanting to let it go. Her frightened, skittish self retreated into the shadows.
Dangerous. Risky. Impossible. Loving Clark Woodward was all of these things. She couldn’t let herself want it.
“Clark,” she admonished, pushing herself to standing. The more distance between them, the safer she’d feel. “You really shouldn’t…”
“Shouldn’t? I don’t understand. All day you’ve been showing me what it means to love someone and now that I want to, you’re saying I shouldn’t?”
He followed as Kate strode closer to the cliff. Surely, he wouldn’t follow her off a cliff? A hundred possible tactics flew at her and she grabbed hold of the first one she caught. Play dumb. Be obtuse. Deliberately obfuscate.
“You should care about everyone. All of those people—”
“I do care about them, but I don’t… I’m not falling in love with them. I’m falling in love with you.”
She froze at the edge. He stood behind her, not near enough to touch but somehow near enough to reach into her chest, grab her heart and hold it so tenderly the heat of oncoming tears burned her eyes.
“You barely know me.”
“You don’t feel the same way?”
“That’s not the point.”
It was as good as an admission, but she couldn’t even think the words. She marveled at the ease with which she said, “I love you,” and “love ya,” to her friends and neighbors, only to balk now when something real and magical waited just three steps away from her.
“Then what is the point? You love so many people. Why not me?”
“…It’s scary.”
“I know.” He breathed a laugh. “Why do you think I’ve been avoiding it for so long?”
His soft words coaxed some truth out of her, a stammering, hard-to-admit truth, but a truth nonetheless.
“When I love someone, I can focus on them. I can make sure they’re safe and comfortable and happy. I’m very good at loving—”
“But not so good at being loved.” The breath left her body. He soldiered on. “Because that means being vulnerable. Being taken care of. When was the last time someone took care of you, Kate? Or listened to you the way you listened to me today?”
He stood in front of her now, his back to the cliff’s edge and framed by the light of the town below. Still, she stared at her shoes.
“What?” She could almost hear his hand flex with nervous energy. “Do I need to go find some mistletoe for you to look at me now?”
You can just run now. Run into the forest and call someone to come and find you. You could just jump off the cliff. A fall from this height probably wouldn’t kill you. A body of broken bones only marginally less appealing than facing her feelings, Kate looked up.
“I see you,” he whispered.
And I see everything about you, Clark Woodward. You have so much love and compassion bottled up, so much you’ve hidden and want to give now you know how. What if I disappoint you? What if I fail and don’t live up to the me who exists on December 24? What if the magic dissolves on the 26th and you go back to Dallas and I’m alone in a crowd again? She didn’t ask any of those questions. And he didn’t answer. What he gave her, as he closed the gap between them, was so much better.
“I never knew I could feel this way. I thought I was trapped, but you opened my entire world up. And filled my house with so many pine needles I don’t think I’ll ever get them out.”
“It’s easy, you just take a high-powered vacuum and—”
“You’ve made this stupid holiday into one of the best days of my life. You made
