Page 50 of A Very Titan Christmas
She took his arm. Their boots crunched over the salted pathway. Parts were still slippery. “I think it’ll be a lot of snow. Some forecasters have been saying it could be bad.” She leaned against him as they traveled farther from the well-lit parking lot. “Um, I don’t think we’re supposed to come down here after dark—ohhh,” she said, breathing out.
Her quiet gasp warmed him from the inside out when she saw the two horses and carriage. As expected, two people waited for them.
One strode forward. “Mr. Richmond.”
“This isn’t real,” Rachel whispered.
“And Ms. Porter,” their greeter said with a cheery smile. “This is Mr. Franklin. He’ll be the one to take you out tonight before your dinner.”
Mr. Franklin inclined his head. “This is Ralphie and Tiny Tim—”
Rachel laughed as the enormous horse tossed his head as though it recognized its name.
Mr. Franklin offered a hand to help Rachel climb into the carriage. “You’ll find a blanket for your legs, and if you cuddle close, you’ll stay nice and warm.”
Tiny Tim tossed his head again as if welcoming them onto the carriage. Rachel looked over her shoulder with a can’t-believe-it grin and then climbed up. Bryce followed. Rachel patted the spot beside her on the thick cushion. Bryce sat next to her and pulled the heavy wool blanket over their legs.
“All settled in?” Mr. Franklin asked.
Of all the ways Bryce had imagined spending his time in Vermont, this wasn’t a possibility. Yet here he was, with the woman he had half hoped not to see and was now having a problem dragging himself away from. “We’re good to go.”
The carriage lurched. Rachel laughed again, but they fell into a smooth motion. The draft horses didn’t move fast. Flickering lamplights along the trail guided their way along the path. Snow flanked the trail. The night was clear and cloudless for the first time in days.
Bryce tipped his head back and let his gaze roam over the sky. “You can see the Milky Way.”
She leaned back and looked in the direction he pointed. “I never see anything like this in Philadelphia.”
“Yeah, I don’t see much like it either.”
The horses’ heavy hooves crunched on the icy path with twin clip-clops that fell together and apart with a rhythmic grace that lulled him into a quieter world consisting of just him and her.
They rolled along. The lanterns attached to the carriage gently swung as the horses pulled them up a hill. Ahead of them, a lamppost cast a golden light against the trees along the path.
Rachel laid her head on his shoulder. “This is wonderful.”
Their legs pressed together under the heavy wool blanket. A gentle breeze lifted snowflakes off the trees and floated them lazily through the air. They sparkled in the lantern light.
Neither spoke. The carriage crushed icy gravel. The wheels crunched over sand and snow and mixed with the heavy clops of horse hooves. Rachel tucked her mittened hands deeper beneath the blanket. “A few weeks ago, I didn’t know I’d be in Vermont.”
“Same.”
“And now, it feels like the universe is trying to tell me there’s no other place I should be.”
His warm laughter rumbled in his chest. She tucked her cheek against his shoulder. He rested his chin on top of her head. “You cold?”
“Not even a little.”
He smiled and covered her mitten with his glove. It wasn’t as if he could feel her skin, but her palm turned up and her fingers locked over his, stoking a hope that was making itself increasingly known. Bryce kissed her temple then tucked her close to his side. In the woods on a horse-drawn carriage, they could sit together like this, like there weren’t real-world expectations of what should happen next. It was just them.
They crested a small hill. The trees opened into a clearing. Below them, tucked into a snow-covered meadow, was the restaurant. The lamps in the parking lot looked like little sprays of gold, and he thought he could make out smoke curling from the restaurant’s chimney. The scent of it tinged the air and made him feel like it was Christmas for the first time since he’d arrived in Vermont. Maybe for the first time in years.
Mr. Franklin drove the carriage over a part of the pathway shaped like a horseshoe and headed down the little hill.
“Remember when I mentioned my… disinterest in the holidays?” Bryce asked.
“Not something I can forget.”
“I think Christmas has worked its magic. If I’m not careful, it might even become my favorite time of the year.”
