Page 31 of A Christmas Spark
“Your gazebo,” she said with a hint of exasperation. “I didn’t even realize you were adding that in… and look! It’s nearly finished. Did you build it all yourself? It looks great?—”
“It’s nothing,” George cut her off. “And it’s got a ways to go before it’ll be done. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
Mabel rolled her eyes. “I want a closer look,” she said, holding onto Rascal with one hand as she headed toward the side door. George followed her, letting out a huff of frustration as he grabbed his gloves and coat and followed her out into the cold.
Rascal let out amraowof protest, and Mabel cuddled the kitten under her puffer as she walked toward the gazebo. George glanced toward the front lot, seeing that it was still empty, at least. He still had work to do, and Mabel—being Mabel—wanted to take a tour of the place.
Besides, it was getting dark. As capable as Mabel was, he wasn’t about to let her get injured on his farm again, like shehad last Christmas. Which was, he told himself, the main reason he was following her out, because he didn’t want to be liable for another accident.
And, maybe a little bit because he was worried about her. He grabbed a flashlight off of a stack of boxes, switching it on as Mabel circled the gazebo.
“Did you build all of this yourself?” She looked up at it, running a hand along the railing. “I always knew you were handy, but this is impressive. You’ve done really good work here, George.”
He narrowed his eyes, waiting for some teasing comment or ribbing from her, or some sarcasm, but there was none. Just a genuine compliment. Which wasn’t unheard of, coming from Mabel, but he was far more used to her pranking him and picking on him. It was a part of their friendship, but he’d long since realized it was more her love language than his. He didn’t like pranking Mabel nearly as much as she liked doing it to him.
The evening was crisp and cold, with a slight wind picking up and sending puffs of their breath out into the cold. The farm was quiet and peaceful, with no one having arrived yet, and from the clouds in the night sky George thought they might be looking at some snow later on that night.
“It’s good enough,” he said gruffly, although he couldn’t help feeling a jolt of pride at how sincerely impressed Mabel seemed to be with his construction. “It’ll do once I’ve got it finished up entirely.”
“Look at that light!” Mabel was walking up the stairs now, and George let out a huff, hurrying over to her side with the flashlight so that she didn’t trip on any of the boards sitting out waiting to be nailed in. “Is that from the antique shop in town? I think I’ve seen that one before.”
“It is.” George looked up at the rustic iron chandelier that was hanging from the top of the gazebo, flanked by old-fashioned lamps at the top of each of the four corners. “Did a little vintage shopping to see what might look good.”
“It’s going to lookincrediblewith Christmas lights,” Mabel enthused, making a circle around the gazebo. “If you loop them all along the upper railing—it’s going to be so festive. Customers are going to love it.”
“Well, I’m not planning on going overboard,” George said, crossing his arms as he held the flashlight beam in her path. “Just wanted a spot for guests to sit and wait, serve them some apple cider and cocoa and let them get a little extra cheer in without overcrowding the office. I’ll install some heaters out here and it’ll be just about good to go.”
Mabel turned to look at him, a small smile on her lips and a flicker of surprise in her eyes. “Well, that’s very thoughtful, George.” She sounded sincere, but her smile turned mischievous a moment later. “You know,” she added thoughtfully, that twinkle that he recognized returning to her eyes, “if I hadn’t seen this and caught you with a kitten nestled against your neck, I might have kept on believing that you don’t have a soft side.”
George grunted. “Don’t think about it too much,” he muttered, but he felt the corners of his mouth tugging up despite himself, and he gave Mabel a gruff smile. “Glad you like it.”
“I love it,” she said honestly. “I might have to come by again when it’s finished, just to get some cider and sit out here. The view is lovely.”
“Well, don’t get any ideas about pulling any pranks on me involving this,” he warned. “I can promise you I wouldn’t find it funny at all.”
“I would never,” Mabel said, and he thought she sounded like she meant it.
“I hope not.” He glanced toward the parking lot, where a truck was pulling up to the front of the office. “Well, I’ve gotcustomers. See you tomorrow when you drop off your little troublemaker.”
“Ourtroublemaker,” Mabel said, grinning at him as she waved goodbye, trudging out to where her silver sedan was parked.
For once, he didn’t argue with her.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Friday morning was sunny and crisp, with a fresh coating of snow over the town—a perfect morning to do some additional Christmas shopping. Imogen had asked Vanessa to meet her for coffee and a few stops, and after grabbing peppermint mochas at the coffee shop, they headed to Cheerful Chapters to look for books for Katie.
Vanessa unwound her navy infinity scarf as she and Imogen stepped into the welcoming warmth of the bookstore. It felt like a warm hug, she thought as they walked into the cozy space, made all the better by the scent of paper and the smell of coffee and cinnamon coming from the small cafe nook in the corner. It was the perfect atmosphere for Christmas shopping, and she felt a flutter of excitement for the upcoming holiday as she and Imogen started to browse the racks.
“I think Katie would like this series.” Imogen paused at the middle-grade shelf, picking up the first in a series about a female pirate and her crew. It looked like a cozy fantasy adventure, and Vanessa picked up the second one, glancing over it.
“There are a lot of them too,” she said, flicking through the following volumes. “They’re not super long either. And look! There’s a box set for the first three.” She picked it up, showing itto Imogen. “If she got into them, that could keep her attention for a good long while.”
“I thought about getting her a few different genres, seeing what she really gravitates toward. She’s been reading a lot lately, but our library doesn’t have the biggest selection, and she’s already getting through the ones she likes.” Imogen held onto the box set, moving on to a trilogy about a fairy princess. “This looks like it might have unicorns in it, so?—”
Vanessa laughed, remembering the endless hunt for the unicorn toy for Katie the year before. “She hasn’t completely outgrown that phase?”
Imogen laughed. “She might never outgrow it, let’s be honest. I still like fairytales, after all, I just read more grown-up ones now.” She grinned at Vanessa, who laughed as she picked up a book about a group of talking animals on a quest to find a treasure.
