Page 19 of Mistletoe

Hal

Sweetwater Point

Hal would never blendinto a crowd. Even with the hat pulled down and the scarf covering the lower half of his face, he was too tall, too broad, and, well, too green.

Up it was.

He slipped behind the building, randomly weaving his way through the back alley until he found a sturdy drain pipe. The metal groaned under his weight, but it held.

Snow fell in chunks as he hauled himself over the edge. The roof offered some protection as long as he stayed away from the edge and moved carefully.

Holding himself still, he listened for shouts, cries of alarm, or anything that indicated his escape had been spotted.

Nothing.

On his stomach, he crept toward the edge. People moved on the street. Uniformed figures burst out of the tavern. A woman in a pale blue coat followed, her pace leisurely. She scanned the street, pointing and giving orders.

Then his heart stopped.

Led by a guard, Emma shuffled out, her hands bound in cuffs.

Arrested.

The woman in the blue coat grabbed Emma by the elbow and marched her down the center of the street.

He might have been from another time and another planet, but he recognized a perp walk.

People paused to watch. Traffic stopped. Emma lifted her chin and walked tall with her back straight, refusing to be shamed. They disappeared into a wooden building with signage for the sheriff’s office over the door.

As he watched, his fingers brushed the scarlet scarf he’d taken from Emma. It smelled of her soap, herbal and clean. Rosemary and lavender. Under that was a musk, something earthy and primal. He pressed the wool to his nose, breathing it in.

He wanted to jump down and intervene, but had to watch and do nothing, as much as it pained him. Even with his stature and large build, there were too many; he’d be overwhelmed.

Emma was not panicking. She walked calmly and with dignity, not with the terror of someone being dragged to their doom. Hal had to trust that whatever local authority had arrested her was also a fair and just authority. As much as he loathed doing nothing, he had to wait for Emma’s release.

He had not wanted to leave her in the tavern, either. It took everything in him not to toss her over his shoulder and run off with her like some cartoon caveman. That was the only sensible thing he’d done all day.

He shouldn’t have followed her.

He shouldn’t have gone into the tavern.

He definitely shouldn’t have started that fight.

But the admiration on her face and, he noted with satisfaction, the attraction had been worth it. Broken glass cut a dozen thin lines into his arms, but he did not feel the sting. All those witnesses, though…that would be a problem.

Hal’s experience with his world was extremely limited but he knew people generally did not look like him. He made a spectacle of himself. His brother would discover his location and capture him again. Or someone else would want the novelty of possessing a green monster. He’d seen that movie and didn’t need to live it. He refused to spend any more time in a cage.

Remaining on the roof would leave him exposed; anyone in a taller building could easily spot him. He needed to hide until dark, when he could slip out of town unnoticed, but that was hours away.

He headed toward the tallest building, carefully easing down the pitched roof. Slate shingles were not the most traction-friendly material. The red scarf unwound, sliding off his neck as he jumped onto the next roof. The woolen material fluttered in the air, threatening to fall to the ground.

Hal grabbed the scarf, causing him to land awkwardly. Fortunately, the gap between buildings had not been large. Unfortunately, the snow hid the metal roof underneath.

The sheet metal reverberated as his weight landed on it, knocking snow to the ground. His boots slipped, sending even more snow downward.

If this was his attempt at being inconspicuous, he failed.

Hal threw himself flat against the roof, waiting to hear a shout from below when the law spotted him. He would not be caged again.He would not.

---