Not being enough hurt.
In the dark of the cinema her hands started shaking, then her shoulders. She wasn’t going to lose it. She wasn’t going to let herself. Tears were brimming in her eyes, just as George was realising how important he was to the people around him.
A hand reached over in the darkness. Warm and gentle, clasping over hers. Mitch didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to.
Someone, who had no idea what had happened to her, was offering support. Offering comfort.
She let the tear slide down her cheek as she sagged back and put her head on his shoulder.
And she sat like that. Letting the story drift past. Watching other people get their happily ever after.
Listening to the bell sound as Clarence got his wings.
Chapter Seven
‡
The fierce snow had finally died down to a constant light drift. The breakfast shift had passed quickly at The Graff and the housekeeping duties even quicker.
Every room at The Graff was a little different and it was so nice. Although the furniture was the same, the color accents were different, as were the little finishing touches.
The room she’d stayed in had been white and gold. But her favorite was probably the room with the sea green accents. It reminded her of home. It reminded her of the view from the beach in her home town in Scotland. And it reminded her of the eyes of a certain someone.
As she walked down the stairs at Bramble House a new smell enveloped her. Eliza was usually burning candles that smelled of cinnamon or festive spices. But the one thing a candle couldn’t replicate was the honest smell of freshly baked cookies. A huge plate was in the sitting room, the aroma practically reaching out and grabbing her.
“Are you ready for the Marietta Stroll this afternoon?” Eliza asked as she walked through to the room.
“I am. I’ve just grabbed a shower and changed my clothes.” She hovered over the cookies. “Did you make these? They smell fantastic.”
Eliza smiled. “Oh, no. It wasn’t me. It was Chris.”
“Santa made the cookies?”
“He sure did. It’s the third batch he’s whipped up since he got here. He says he loves making them and it helps him relax. Go on, try one. They taste as good as they smell.”
She couldn’t resist. She reached out and grabbed one, taking a bite and letting the warm chocolate chips melt in her mouth. “Mmmmm, fantastic.”
Eliza gave her a little wink. “I’ll let you into a secret. He says they’re sprinkled with magic dust.”
Emma’s mouth was full and she could barely speak. “What?”
Eliza nodded. “I’m not joking. He says his cookies have special powers. They can help wishes come true.”
Emma swallowed. She couldn’t help but smile. “Marietta seems full of this kind of stuff.”
Eliza gave her a funny kind of look. As if she’d picked up on something she shouldn’t have. “It’s amazing what can happen when you believe,” she said as she walked out the door.
Emma stared at the rest of the cookie in her hand. She wasn’t going to wish for that. She wasn’t. It was ridiculous – pointless even. The chance to have kids was gone – forever. All this stuff was all hocus-pocus.
The tinkle of the door behind her startled her. Mitch smiled at her from the doorway. His arms were folded across his chest and he was leaning on the door jam. It wasn’t hard to focus on the wide shoulders and cheeky grin.
“Got your wings yet?”
The film. Of course.
He hadn’t said a word last night about what had happened at the cinema. They’d come outside to a barrel load of snow and she’d bought them both pizza slices that they’d eaten as he’d walked her back to Bramble House.
There had been no pressure. No questions. He’d said goodnight at the door and agreed when to pick up her this afternoon.
“I think there might be a bit of wait for wings,” she said softly. “I guess I’ll have to do some good deeds first.”
He walked over, his face just inches above hers. Her reaction was automatic. She held her breath.
His hand reached up and his finger tilted her chin up towards him. “You don’t need to do any good deeds, Emma. You’re good enough.”
She felt the buzz as his steady, green eyes connected with hers. She could see the tiny laughter lines at the corners of his eyes and smell the familiar spicy scent drifting towards her. If this was a real-life movie there would be a pink haze around about them right now.
He blinked. And the moment was broken. He leaned over her shoulder and grabbed one of the cookies. “My favorite. Who made these?”
“Santa,” she said quickly. “And watch out, they’re apparently magic.”
He gave her a wink. “Santa casting his spell already? I thought he’d save it for the stroll.”
He held up a bag. “I bought you a present.”
Her heart gave a little jump. It was the last thing she was expecting. “Really?” She reached over for the bag and opened it. “You didn’t.”
“I did.”
She pulled out the red rubber boots. Although they were made of rubber, the print on them had a white fur-like trim and black shiny buckles at the side. They looked as if they’d been made for Santa himself.
“I love these!” She squealed.
He smiled. “Didn’t want you to be arrested if you made off with Eliza’s. I thought you should have a pair of your own.”
She didn’t waste any time. She swapped them over immediately and wriggled her toes in the snug liner. “They’re perfect. Thank you.”
He held out his elbow. “Ready to hit the highlights of Marietta?”
“Absolutely.”
Even though it was only approaching four o’clock, the sky had already started to dim a little. The street lights were all lit and all the shops on Main Street were open and buzzing with people
. It was lovely to the see the street so busy.
A huge range of aromas were wafting towards them. Burgers, hot dogs and enchiladas mixed with pine needles, cinnamon, and cotton candy. “How would you like to try some Copper Mountain chocolate?”
“Why would any girl say no to chocolate?”
He led her into a nearby store and introduced her to the woman behind the counter. “Sage, this is Emma. She just arrived and is working at The Graff. I thought I should introduce her to the most important store in town.”
Sage looked from where she was wrapping chocolates in colored foil. “And that compliment will earn you some free chocolate.” She smiled at Emma, her face friendly and warm. “Pick a few to sample.” She waved her hand. “And if there’s anything you don’t see and you’d like, I’m open to suggestions.”
Emma walked along the glass cabinet that was stuffed with more varieties of handmade chocolates than she’d ever seen. “You make all these yourself?”
Sage nodded. “It’s a definite labor of love.”
Emma’s eyes were drawn to a few and she licked her lips automatically. “What’s your favorite, Mitch?”
“The dark chocolate with hazelnuts,” he said quickly. “Adam Brady and I usually fight over it.”
She thought hard. “He’s the doctor, right? The one that stays on Bramble Lane?”
Mitch nodded. “What’s your poison going to be?”
She really just wanted to try them all, but a few other people had come through the door. “Can I try the orange ginger truffle and the raspberry truffle please?”
Sage lifted them both with a pair of silver tongs and handed them over in rustling tissue paper.
It was like a taste explosion on her tongue. “Oh, wow.” She shook her head at Mitch. “Between these and Santa’s cookies I’m going to put on a hundred pounds if I stay in Marietta.” She dug out her purse and purchased a small bag of each and a bar of chocolate for Mitch. “Okay, tour guide, where next?”
He steered her towards the entrance of The Graff. “Let’s have a quick look at the gingerbread competition.”