Page 55 of The Way Back Home
TEAGAN
After Noah left, Teagan turned off the lamps so that the only light came from the fire and the Christmas tree. Then she settled back onto the couch, eyes drifting toward the tree. Tall and full, perfectly shaped, it filled the cabin with a sweet pine scent. The twinkling lights were hypnotic.
Regardless of what happened tomorrow, the past two days had given her a cache of precious memories. Riding in a sleigh to pick out a tree. Decorating it with lights and an assortment of ornaments while listening to classic Christmas carols, drinking hot chocolate, and nibbling on homemade cookies.
By far, the best memory was seeing glimpses of Noah’s smile and knowing that she’d had something to do with that. Handsome as he was, he was dazzling when he smiled. Had things been different—hadshebeen different—she would have made sure he had a reason to smile every day.
Teagan pulled the afghan tighter. Her chest squeezed at the thought of leaving, but what choice did she have? She couldn’t change the past, and she couldn’t continue to live her life on the run. One way or another, she had to end this.
Besides, leaving was part of the deal: spend the holiday with Noah, then go her own way.
As she stared at the tree, she realized something was missing.
A present needed to be under the tree.
She reached up and unclasped the delicate Celtic necklace she’d rescued from her mother’s jewelry box, the one she’d hidden away before her stepdad could pawn it for booze. It was the only thing of value she had to give. Wrapping it carefully in the linen napkin Noah’s mom had placed over the box of goodies, she slipped it under the tree for him to find after she was gone.
She was still staring at the tree, her fingers absently tracing the now-bare hollow of her throat, when the door opened, and Noah stepped back inside. A brief blast of frigid air accompanied him, but she didn’t mind.
She got up and took the box from his hands so he could remove his jacket and boots, smiling when she saw the amount of food he’d brought back.
“Does she think we’re hosting a party?”
Noah laughed, his firelight dancing in his amber eyes and golden hair. “Food is love.”
“Clearly. Shall I make us a plate?”
“Nah. Let’s just eat out of the box,” he said with a grin. “It’ll be like a takeout buffet. Less dishes that way.”
“Works for me.”
“I brought a Thermos of cocoa as well.”
“With mini marshmallows?”
He snorted. “Of course with mini marshmallows. What kind of man do you think I am?”
Teagan laughed softly, then settled back onto the couch.
Noah sat on the floor next to her, his shoulder a hairbreadth away from her folded legs. They ate in companionable silence, trading containers of Mrs. Ziegler’s incredible home cooking.
“Was it as bad as you thought?” she asked quietly.
He chewed slowly and swallowed. “No,” he said on an exhale. “It was anticlimactic, to be honest.”
“The longer we put something off, the more we imagine the worst. Reality is rarely as bad as what we come up with in our own minds.”But not always, she added silently. Sometimes, it was worse.
“Wise words.”
She smiled. “Not really. I don’t know your family well, but I can tell they care for you very much.”
He thought about that for a moment, then nodded. “What about your family? You said your mom died when you were young.”
Teagan considered not answering. She didn’t like to talk about her family. Didn’t even like to think about them; the memories were too painful. But for whatever reason—maybe it was the warmth of the cabin, thecozy lighting, or the subtle vulnerability of the man on the floor in front of her—she said, “Yeah. I was five. I barely remember her, to be honest.”
“What happened?”
Continuing to stare at the tree, she went on. “She was killed by a drunk driver on his way home from an office holiday party, so Christmas wasn’t really a happy time in my house. I wasn’t even allowed to say the wordChristmaswithout my stepfather flying into a rage.”
