He shrugged. “I want to help. This is important to you, so it’s important to me.”
Her eyes widened.
He stood. “I’ll go set up the tree.” He lengthened his stride, hoping to escape the question in her eyes. He’d gone too far. If he wasn’t careful, she’d figure out he was pining away for her affection. He opened the door, and the near zero temperature knocked some sense into him. Yes, this was exactly what he needed before he messed everything up and lost the only woman he had ever loved.
Chapter Seven
Monday evening while driving home from work, Gabe pressed the button on his steering wheel, allowing him to answer the phone. “What’s up, Sara?”
“You will never believe this.”
He chuckled at her enthusiasm. “Nothing surprises me with you.”
“Well, this will. I saw April as I was locking up tonight and invited her to have coffee with me. She said yes!”
“That’s great.” He had no idea why that was so shocking. Anyone would be happy to have coffee with Sara.
“She originally turned me down because she’s too busy, but when I rebutted with a sound plan, she agreed, and not begrudgingly.”
“Good for you. It sounds like you’re well on your way to fulfilling your plan.”
“I hope so. I don’t imagine she’ll tell me the amount of her debt the first time we meet, but it’s a step in the right direction.”
“You do realize Christmas is only a couple of weeks away?”
“Yes. Don’t worry. Today was a great sales day at the shop, and I already have one hundred dollars set aside for her.”
He spotted The Little Corner Bistro and pulled over. “I’ll grab dinner, and we can celebrate your victory together.”
“You’re the best. See you soon.” She disconnected the call.
He went inside the bistro and ordered two of their chicken dinner specials and two slices of chocolate cake. A short while later, he was back on the road. Christmas music filled the cab of the pickup, and he sang along—at least at night no one could witness him geek out to music.
He parked in front of Sara’s, grabbed the bag of food, then headed inside. This was becoming a habit—way more than normal. He couldn’t help himself though. He wanted to be with her, and any excuse to do so was good enough for him.
The door opened before he knocked. “You went to the Bistro? I thought for sure you’d get a pizza.”
“As much as I love pizza, I’ve been craving real food.” He walked past her, went to the kitchen table, and began pulling out their feast.
After they sat, he blessed the food, and they dug in. He looked up from his chicken and stopped chewing. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“There’s something different about you.”
His face heated. He reached for his glass of water. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Clarity filled her face. “That’s what’s different. You’re not yourself. At first I thought maybe you had a new haircut, but that’s not it at all. You are more attentive. You’ve been with me practically every night since Thanksgiving, and let’s not forget how suddenly philanthropic you’ve become.”
His pulse thrummed in his ears. “Good grief. One donation does not make me a philanthropist. And as far as coming here more often, it’s because you’ve needed my help. Remember?”
She frowned. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
Wait a minute. What was she hoping he’d admit to? He cleared his throat. “Did I get that answer wrong? You sound disappointed.”
“Why would your answer disappoint me?” She focused on her chicken.
He studied her rosy-cheeked face, hoping to see his own feelings reflected in her eyes, but she wouldn’t look at him. He bit back a growl of frustration. This wasn’t working. He couldn’t keep pretending. Maybe ripping the proverbial bandage off was the best course of action.
Annabelle walked over to the table and rested her head on his leg, looking at him with her beautiful brown eyes that seemed to tell him to go for it.
“I might as well come clean. You’re right about my attentiveness. The truth is, I don’t want to be just your best friend anymore.”
Her gaze slammed into his. “Excuse me?”
“I want to be more than that. I want to be able to hold you and kiss you goodbye at night.” He held his breath. Dare he say more? His heart pounded, and his appetite vanished.
“I don’t know what to say. This is such a shock.”
“Maybe start with how you feel about me.” She had to feel what he was feeling. He couldn’t be in love alone.
“You’re my best friend. I don’t want us to do anything that could ruin what we have.”
Pain ripped through him. “So you don’t feel the same way as me?”
“I’m sorry.”
He pushed back from the table. “Okay. I need to go.” He grabbed his coat and strode out without looking back. He was such a fool. He knew better than to fall in love with Sara, and now he’d ruined the best thing he had in his life—their friendship.
Stunned, Sara sat at her kitchen table. The front door closed a little too hard, jolting her from her shock. Gabe had feelings for her—so when he’d said he loved her the other day, it wasn’t the friendship kind of love. Why now, after all these years? They were firmly rooted in the friend zone and to veer from that could be catastrophic. She needed him in her life. Needed his friendship. Had loved him romantically more than once but had given up when he clearly didn’t look at her that way. She’d guarded her heart so tightly, she wasn’t sure she could let that guard down now to return his feelings. Besides that, love was a huge risk. She didn’t want to take that risk with him. What if it didn’t work out, and their friendship was ruined? What was she supposed to do now?
Annabelle whined at her feet and leaned against Sara’s legs.
Sara scooted the chair back and sank to the floor beside her dog. She pulled Annabelle into her arms and buried her face in her dog’s neck. “What am I supposed to do?”
Annabelle panted.
Sara needed someone to talk to who would respond. She stood and padded to the couch with her phone in hand. She pulled up her contacts and scrolled down the list. Her finger hovered over her mom’s name. She’d focused so much on her shop and Gabe that she didn’t have many options. She pressed her mom’s name and listened to the phone ring. Once. Twice.
“Sara? Is everything okay?” Mom asked.
“Most people say hello when they answer the phone.”
“I’m not most people. I’m your mother, and you usually only call when something’s wrong.”
“Seriously?” She thought about that for a second. Mom was right. “I’m sorry.”
“There’s no need to apologize. I’m glad you’re comfortable calling when life is giving you trouble. What’s going on?”
“It’s Gabe. He wants to be more than friends.”
Silence greeted her.
“Are you still there?” She looked at the phone to see if the call had dropped. “Mom?”
“I’m here. I just wanted to pause a moment before saying the first thing that popped into my head.”
“Okay.” She knew better than to ask. Her mom was big on speaking with purpose.
“It’s natural that he would have feelings for you. You’re both still single, have been friends since you were young teens, and you fit like a glove with one another. I’m only surprised this conversation hasn’t come up sooner. To be honest, when I told you to bring a friend for Christmas, I’d hoped you’d realize he’s the one.”
Sara gasped. “You knew how he felt and didn’t say anything?” She’d seen the hurt on Gabe’s face before he left. If she’d had a clue how he felt, she could have at least been prepared and maybe avoided hurting him. The last thing she ever wanted to do was cause Gabe pain, yet that was exactly what she’d done. She clenched her free hand. Maybe seeing where things went with them wasn’t such a bad thing?
>
No. The risk was too great. Somehow, she had to fix this mess. But how?
“The two of you needed to figure this out on your own without my meddling. Although, I’ll admit keeping quiet all these years has been a challenge.”
“I can’t believe this.” Two shocks in one night—first Gabe and now her mom. How could she have been so blind? How long had he had feelings for her? Could she have misread him during the times she’d fallen hard for him? She closed her eyes unable to process the thought. It didn’t matter. They had a good thing going, and she, for one, wanted to keep it that way.
“What are you going to do?” Mom asked gently.
“I don’t know. I don’t love him like that.”
“Are you sure? I’ve watched the two of you dance around your feelings for so many years, I can’t believe you don’t love him.”
“Well, believe it. That’s not to say I haven’t fallen for him a time or two, but…I can’t have this conversation.”
“Don’t hang up.” Her mom’s words came out in a rush. “Are you still there?”
“Yes.”
“What are you going to do about Gabe?”
Sara blew out a shaky breath. “I don’t know. Based on how fast he left here, I’m sure I hurt his feelings.”
“Oh, sweetie. I’m so sorry for both of you. What do you normally do when you hurt him?”
“I apologize.”
“Then apologize.”
“It’s not that simple, Mom. You weren’t here. You didn’t see his face. This isn’t a little scratch. I caused a gaping wound.” Sara’s heart hurt, thinking about the look in his eyes when he left.
“Are you certain you don’t return his feelings?”
“I don’t let myself go there. Like I said, been there done that, and now I keep my feelings platonic.” Unrequited love hurt. She knew that firsthand. Falling for him, getting married, having a family, and then, heaven forbid, one of them wanted a divorce, that would hurt even worse. This way, they still had each other—at least they would once he forgave her.
“That’s admirable, but not all that practical. Why deny yourself love? I can understand why you were afraid to let him know your true feelings before, but there’s no risk in loving him back now.”
“Of course there’s risk. There’s always a risk when the heart is involved.” Her mother had been married most of her adult life to her first boyfriend and clearly couldn’t understand Sara’s situation.
“There’re no guarantees when it comes to relationships—romantic or otherwise. Caring, loving, and feeling are risks. But they’re risks worth taking,” Mom said.
“How would you know? You and Dad have been together for years. You don’t know the sting of rejection when the other person no longer feels the same.”
“And you do?”
“Yes. Don’t you remember?” Sara winced. She still couldn’t say his name.
“You mean Dustin? That guy from the summer between eighth grade and high school?” Disbelief clouded her mom’s voice.
“Yes. It was the worst. I was mentally planning our wedding, and then one day, he says he doesn’t love me, and we were done.”
“You were fourteen.”
“So? The heart of a fourteen-year-old feels pain like that of forty-year-old. Age doesn’t matter.”
“Okay. I see your point.” Her mom took a breath then let it out. “There’s a saying, and I know for a fact it’s true. Love is a choice. If you think I’ve awakened everyday for the past thirty-six years hopelessly in love with your dad, you’re mistaken. I have to choose to love him and stay true to my commitment to him.”
Sara gasped. “What did he do?”
“Nothing. But sometimes, I just don’t feel the love for him I once did. Your dad is a good man and a loving husband. I’m a blessed woman.”
“Yet, you admit to falling out of love with him and having to choose to love him?”
“I’m an imperfect human. But I do my best.”
Sara sighed. “This isn’t helping.”
“What more do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know, Mom. Tell me I’m not a horrible person because I can’t return his feelings. Tell me that it will work itself out. Tell me that I didn’t just make the biggest mistake of my life and lose the best true friend I’ve ever had. But don’t tell me to risk everything on love.”
“You’re not a horrible person, but as for the rest…”
Sara’s throat burned. “Never mind. Just pray that I’ll know what to do.”
“I will. I love you. I’m always here even if you don’t like what I have to say.”
“I know, Mom. Love you too. ’Bye.” She ended the call and set the phone beside her on the couch. How had the evening, which had gotten off with such a happy start, ended on such a distressful note?
She glanced toward the kitchen table and winced. Neither of them had finished their meal, and two pieces of delicious looking chocolate cake sat untouched. She cleaned up the food and stored it in the fridge. She would swing over to the hanger before opening the store tomorrow and deliver Gabe’s food. She wasn’t sure if she wanted him to be there or not. But since she had no clue about his schedule, she’d leave it in the Lord’s hands if she saw Gabe or not.
Chapter Eight
Tuesday morning, Gabe yanked open the office door at the hanger and tramped in.
“’Morning,” Forrest said. “Sara stopped by ’bout an hour ago with a bag of food. It’s in the main fridge.”
He paused by the counter. “Did she say anything?” He’d wondered all night if he’d made a mistake storming out of her place last night. In all fairness, he had dropped a huge surprise on her. If things had been reversed, he wouldn’t have known what to say either.
“No. She only asked me to make sure you got it.” Forrest narrowed his eyes. “Something going on between the two of you? She seemed off. Kind of sad. Not herself at all.”
Gabe rubbed the back of his neck and blew out a long breath. “I told her how I feel about her. She doesn’t feel the same.”
Forrest grunted. “She’s either in denial or a liar. Anyone with eyes can see she adores you.”
Gabe raised a brow. Sometimes, he wondered about Forrest—the man said some strange things. “I think she knows her feelings.”
“What did she say?”
“I don’t remember her exact words, but she made it clear that she’s not interested in me like that.”
“Maybe you surprised her.”
“That’s a given. The next move is on her.” He went to his office and closed the door. Could they go back to being best friends? No. Her rejection hurt too much. It was better this way. His lease was up at the end of the year. Maybe he should put some feelers out, sell his chopper, and find work in Denver. A fresh start was exactly what he needed.
Saturday morning, Sara sat across from April at Cozy Coffee Shop and sipped her peppermint mocha. “I’m so glad we could do this. I’ve enjoyed Emily and wanted to get to know her mom.”
“That’s sweet of you. Emily is pretty amazing. After my husband died, she really stepped in and helped with the kids. I don’t know what I would’ve done without her.”
“I’m sorry about your husband.”
“Thanks. He died a little over a year ago. We came here for a fresh start.” She waved a hand as if to toss the words away. “I don’t know why I brought him up. I guess you’re easy to talk to.”
“I’m happy to listen. Sometimes it’s easier to talk to someone you don’t know well.”
“I can see how that would be true. There’s not a lot of risk when you don’t see a person much. But I hope we can be friends,” April quickly added.
“Me too. This might be too personal of a question, but since you brought up your husband’s death, I was wondering about something.”
“I don’t promise to answer, but you’re welcome to ask.” April sat stiffly in the chair.
Sara regretted pushing the subject, but she mig
ht never get another opportunity. “Emily and I were talking the other day, and she said you don’t celebrate Christmas anymore. She thought it was because of all your husband’s doctor bills.”
April closed her eyes a moment and when she opened them, her gaze was filled with pain. “I can see I need to have a heart-to-heart with my daughter.” She ran her finger around the top of her coffee cup. “Jeff died at the end of October last year. It wasn’t so much the money, or lack thereof, but rather Christmas was too much for me—I couldn’t pretend to be happy or jolly. I was overwhelmed and couldn’t manage the festivities.”
“That’s completely understandable. What about this year? I noticed your apartment is lacking in decorations.”
“Same reason I guess. We moved here about a month ago, and I’m overwhelmed with being in a new place and learning my new job. It’s a lot.”
“So you aren’t struggling to pay your husband’s medical bills?”
She shrugged. “The hospital he received care from was a non-profit. They canceled the debt after he died.”
“Did his doctor do that too?”
She shook her head. “No. It’s been a struggle and sacrifice to scrape up the payment every month, but I’m close to having all the bills paid. Another thirteen hundred, and I’ll be free and clear.”
“That’s fantastic. It kind of irks me that the doctor is making you pay when he didn’t stop your husband from dying.”
She laughed drily. “It doesn’t work like that. He provided treatment for my husband, and it’s my responsibility to pay him. It’s the right thing to do.”
Sara stayed quiet and let April talk about the doctor. She even gave his name and the location of his practice. After a quick glace at her phone’s screen Sara typed the info into the notes app—she’d become adept at typing without looking. At eight forty-five, the alarm on her phone went off.
April’s eyes widened. “It’s time already?”
Sara grinned. “Time flies when you’re unloading.”
April’s mouth dropped. “I feel horrible.”
Sara's Gift (Small-Town Christmas Wishes Book 4) Page 6
