Page 15 of Mountain Gift

"I don't know what I'm going to do, Boone," she sobs, "This car... it's everything to me."

I nod, understanding her pain. I open the car door and pull her into a hug.

"I know it does, baby," I murmur, "I know."

After a moment, I pull back and offer, "I’m going to run upstairs and finish getting dressed. Then I’ll drive you to the nursing home."

She looks at me, surprise evident in her watery eyes. "But I thought you were spending the day at the shop?"

I shrug, giving her a small smile. "The shop can wait. You're more important."

She blinks, then manages a weak smile. "Alright, Boone," she murmurs, "That sounds nice."

As I help her out of the car and to the porch, promising to return shortly, my mind races.

I can't fix the car indefinitely, but maybe I can help Caroline find a way to keep those memories alive, even without the Buick.

And maybe, just maybe, I can also show her that it's okay to make new memories, too.

With that thought, I head upstairs to get dressed, ready to face whatever the day throws at us.

Chapter Five

CAROLINE

I'ma little embarrassed about my meltdown over my car. Fortunately, Boone doesn't seem to mind.

After a few minutes, Boone emerges from the house again. He's got a shirt and jacket on now, as well as shoes. And even though his hair is still a bit damp, he looks ready to go.

He locks the front door with the spare key I gave him and then turns to smile at me from the porch.

I flush and turn my attention back to the boxes in my car, trying desperately to ignore the desire twisting up inside me.

It's only been a few days since he started staying with me, but everything feels so...right.

Every morning, he greets me with a soft kiss and a plate of perfectly cooked breakfast. He drives me to work, his strong hand on mine as we navigate the morning traffic. And every evening, we cook dinner together, laughter and easy conversation filling my previously quiet kitchen.

For the first time in a long time, my house feels like a home.

It's not just the physical presence of Boone that's brought this change, it's the care he showers on me, the way he looks at me like I'm the only woman in the world. It feels like we could be a real family. And even though that thought is scary, it's also really exciting.

I love our routine, and I find myself hoping, more than anything, that it's a routine we can keep.

Boone's truck is enormous, much bigger than my Buick. While we can fit both cars in the front driveway, his easily takes up two-thirds of it, dwarfing my car completely.

As I finish adjusting the boxes in the back of the truck, I walk around it to find him leaning in across the passenger's seat. That's when I realize that he's adjusting a blanket he's laid out across it, smoothing out every wrinkle and picking away every bit of lint.

He catches me watching him, but he doesn't say anything about the blanket.

"Hop in when you're ready, baby," he says instead before heading back to shut the trunk.

I climb up into his truck and sit down on the blanket. It's incredibly soft. Did he put this here just for me?

He climbs into the driver's seat beside me, and soon after, we're off. He asks me for directions to the nursing home, and I point him to where he needs to go.

Once on the main road, we sit in silence for a while in the long stretch between turns.

I watch my town pass us by. Flashes of places and people I've known my whole life. Cooper Hills is as familiar to me as my own body is.

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