Page 14 of Mountain Gift

After a few more moments of comfortable conversation, I stand, leaning over to press a kiss to her forehead.

"I'm about to head upstairs and take a shower, baby,” I murmur against her skin. “Then I’m off to the shop.”

Caroline leans into me, her warmth seeping into my body.

It's moments like these that remind me just how lucky I am to have her in my life. I pull away reluctantly, already looking forward to seeing her later.

"What time will you be back home?" she asks.

"Should be around 6 p.m.," I reply, my heart warming at her question.

It's the 'home' part that gets me. Does she really think of this place – her place – as my home too?

Caroline smiles back, a hint of pink tinting her cheeks. "Sounds great," she says, her eyes sparkling. "I'll see you later, Boone. I’m about to get going to the nursing home."

And with that, I leave the kitchen and head upstairs to take a shower.

The water is hot, soothing my muscles and throwing steam around the room. It feels so good to have a hot shower after those awful motel bathrooms and the biting winter air.

As I shower, thoughts of Caroline sneak into my mind, as they often do these days.

We've been dancing around the subject, not really defining what's simmering between us, but that's alright. I've always been a believer in taking things slow.

Sure, I haven't made any grand declarations, but I've been communicating my feelings in my own way. It's in the small gestures – offering support when she's lost in thought, sharing a laugh over a silly joke, or fixing that pesky leaky faucet without being asked. Sometimes, actions can speak louder than words.

But, there's one particular word that's been nudging me lately.

Love.

It's a weighty word, full of promises and hopes. I want to tell her. I want to see how she reacts when I say it.

Maybe today will be the day I gather enough courage. Or perhaps tomorrow. But certainly before Christmas - that's the deadline I've set for myself. Life is too short to keep holding back. I’m in love with Caroline.

And I refuse to spend my life without her.

Just as I'm finishing up, I hear a loud bang from outside. In an instant, I'm thrown back into my training in the Marines. It sounded like a gunshot.

Shutting the shower off, I hop out of it. I throw on a pair of jeans and hurry out into the hallway to look out the window.

As I peer outside in search of the danger, I spot Caroline sitting in her Buick in the driveway. My heart jumps like a rabbit in my chest at the thought of her in danger, but before I can do anything, I hear the sound again. The blast of a gunshot.

Then I realize that it's not a gun.

It's hercar.

Adrenaline surges through me as I bolt outside. When I get to the car, Caroline is hunched over the steering wheel sobbing.

The sight hits me square in the chest.

Taking a deep breath, I walk up to the car and tap gently on the window. "Everything okay, sweetheart?"

“No everything isnotokay,” she sniffs, dabbing at her eyes with a crumpled tissue. "It's the Buick," she manages to say, "it's broken down.Again."

My heart sinks.

I've just brought this car back from the shop for her. The mechanic did what he could, but it's clear the Buick's seen better days. She really needs a new one. The only problem is that this car means everything to Caroline. It's not just a vehicle. It's a precious link to her late husband, James.

How can I suggest a new car when this one holds so many cherished memories?

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