by Elle Thorpe
I couldn’t stop crying.
I’d cried softly the entire way in the car with Johnny’s dad, huddling away from him, trying not to let him see, but I could feel the worried glances he kept shooting me. When we’d pulled up outside the B & B, I’d thanked him profusely, grateful to escape, but he’d grabbed my wrist. I stopped and looked back at him.
“Please, Isabel. I just need to know you’re okay. Did my son…hurt you?”
I recoiled in horror, shaking my head firmly. “Oh my God, no. He would never!”
Johnny’s dad nodded quietly and let go of my wrist. “Okay then. That’s good. Whatever happened between y’all then isn’t my business. I just had to be sure, what with you so upset and all.”
“Your son is a good man, Mr. West. The best.”
He nodded gravely. “I know. Thank you.”
I turned and fled up the path and into the B & B. But I knew I couldn’t stay there. I couldn’t stay in this room that reminded me of Johnny. I couldn’t stay in this town. Everywhere I looked, something reminded me of him. The café he’d bought me coffees from. The park we’d walked around on my lunch breaks. Every square foot of Two Creek Plains was filled with the memories of Johnny’s attempts to make me fall in love with Christmas.
And with him.
My heart couldn’t take it.
I asked Eric to call me a cab, and then threw everything I owned into my suitcase, placing the cowboy hat Johnny had given me reverently on top. Maybe I should have left it for him. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. And when the cab beeped its horn, I left the tiny town I’d lost my heart in behind.
16
Johnny
I stared blankly after Isabel for the longest time, hoping that with every rustle of the trees, it was her returning. But nothing bigger than a squirrel moved and the silence around me closed in, suffocating. All of my muscles were frozen, and though my mind whirled a hundred miles a minute, my body seemed incapable of movement.
My heart hurt. My pride hurt. I knew I’d been impulsive and reckless. The marriage proposal had caught even me by surprise. But that hadn’t meant it was any less sincere. There was a lump in my throat so thick and painful that I couldn’t swallow it down.
“Fuck!” I hollered, sending my horse skittering into the trees. The mare galloped off, and I dropped my head back on my shoulders, staring up at the sky. “Just fucking great,” I muttered.
I wasn’t worried about my horse. I knew she’d head straight for the barns. But that left me with a long walk home. I huffed out a heavy sigh and forced my feet back onto the path.
One step in front of the other. That’s all I had to do. I trudged through the snow, looking at my boots the entire time. It was too quiet. Too still. There was nothing for me to do but walk and replay the last hour in my head over and over again. At first, I berated myself, kicking myself for even saying anything in the first place. I should have just kept my stupid big mouth shut like I’d been planning to do. But the further I walked, the more my anger grew in a different direction.
She’d said she loved me too. I wasn’t the only one feeling the connection between us. And then she’d just up and run away? Who did that?
My heart leapt as I neared the main house and spotted a figure on the path hurrying toward me. I picked up the pace, but as soon as I realized it was Mama, my shoulders slumped.
She was huffing and out of breath when she caught up with me. “What did you do?”
I looked down at her. “What do you mean?”
“To Isabel! I’ve been looking for you for an hour!”
“I was at the lookout. Lost my horse so I had to walk back. Where’s Isabel? Did she make it back okay?”
Mama waved her hands around frantically. “Yes, she’s fine. Well, sort of. She came straight to the main house, all upset and crying. What did you do to that girl, Johnny?”
I ground my teeth together. “Nothin’!”
Mama narrowed her eyes.
I huffed out a sigh. “I told her I loved her, okay?”
Mama’s expression softened. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh. And then I asked her to marry me, and she jumped on her horse and ran away.”
Mama’s eyes widened. “You asked her to marry you?”
“Yes!”
Mama’s mouth formed an O. “And she didn’t take that well, I’m guessing?”
There was no point even answering that question. “Where is she now? In my cabin? I need to talk to her.”
Mama shook her head. “She was so upset, Johnny. I tried to get her to talk to me, but she wouldn’t. She asked your pop to take her home. So he did.”
“What!”
“I’m sorry. We couldn’t just force her to stay.”
“Goddammit!”
“Watch your language. But what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to go after her, of course.”
The streets into town seemed longer than usual. Every mile felt like it stretched on for hours and slowing down for bends and corners only heightened my impatience. I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel and tried to clear my head. But it was a clouded mess of confusion.
And beneath all that, guilt swirled in my stomach. This was not how I’d envisioned today going. We were supposed to spend the morning horseback riding, then eat the decadent lunch I’d prepared. The afternoon and evening were going to be filled with Christmas movies and junk food and making love in front of the fireplace.
It was not supposed to be…this. Isabel running away and me chasing her all over town. Storm clouds rolled in, cloaking what had been a beautiful morning in gray, but that suited me just fine. My mood matched. I needed to fix this. To tell her I was sorry and to just forget everything I’d said. We could go back to where we’d been this morning, before I’d opened my big, stupid mouth and shoved my foot right inside it.
When I finally pulled up at the B & B I was antsy as all hell to see her. I raced up the walkway, just as small flakes began to fall, and threw open the door. Eric looked up from his desk and put a hand over his heart.
“Lord almighty, Johnny West. You scared me half to death.”
But I was already heading for the stairs. “Sorry!” I yelled over my shoulder. “I need to see Isabel.” I stormed down the hallway to her room but brought myself up short in the entrance way. The door was open a crack. I steadied myself, my apologies ready on my tongue. I knocked, and the door fell open.
“Isabel?”
“She’s not here,” Eric said behind me.
I spun around. In my haste, I hadn’t even realized he was following me.
“What? Where is she?”
Eric bit his lip. “I’m not sure. But…”
I’d always liked Eric, but I was going to shake the man if he didn’t spit it out.
“She checked out early. Said something had come up and she had to leave. I assumed, after the way you two have been so loved up the last few weeks, that she was staying with you for her last few days.”
I shook my head. “No. We had a fight.”
Eric patted my arm. “She loaded her suitcases into a cab. If she wasn’t going to your place, then perhaps…”
“She was going to the airport.”
Eric’s expression filled with sympathy, which I hated, but that didn’t come close to the hurt of complete and utter rejection. I pushed the door all the way open and stepped inside. I walked around the space, checking every nook and cranny, praying Eric was somehow wrong and that I’d find some trace of her left behind.
But there was nothing. Every drawer was empty. None of her clothes hung in the closet. Her toiletries and makeup had all disappeared from the bathroom counter.
I sank down onto her squeaky bed and thrust my fingers into my hair.
Eric cleared his throat, but I didn’t look up.
“I’m going to give you some privacy. Stay as long as you like, okay?”
He didn’t wait for a response before closing the door quietly.
A numb feel
ing floated down over me, cloaking me in its protective embrace. And for a while, I let it. Because it was easier than realizing that the woman I loved had just left without even saying goodbye. That was a sting it would take a lifetime to get over. And letting that hurt in just now wasn’t an option.
Instead, I pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from my back pocket and smoothed it open. It had been folded and refolded so many times, and I’d always made sure I had it with me so I wouldn’t forget why I was trying to make her love Christmas. But now I ran my fingers over the edges, treasuring it because it was the only thing I had left of her.
My fingers trailed down the page, reading over each line, my heart hurting a little more with each one. Twenty-four reasons she hated Christmas, each one rectified by me over the last few weeks. I huffed out a laugh. They were good memories. Even if this one would sour them all, I’d loved doing it. I’d loved winning her over, bit by bit, day by day.
I sighed, dropping the list and letting it float to the floor. I lay back on her bed and tried not to inhale the scent of her that clung to the sheets and pillows. Exhaustion crashed down on me, heavy and overbearing. My eyelids were growing heavy when a sudden thought struck me.
I sat up and pounced on the list. Twenty-four reasons. When we’d met at the store, she’d said she had twenty-five reasons. One for every year she’d been alive. But the list only had twenty-four.
I mulled that over in my mind. She could have just made a mistake. Or forgotten one of her reasons…but I remembered the way her pen had hovered over that last line. Like she’d wanted to write something else, but had then changed her mind.
I remembered the few times she’d frozen up when I’d asked about her past, and her comments about hating December 24 in particular. Why? There was nothing on this list that pointed to something awful happening on December 24 specifically. What had she left off?
I pushed up off the bed, shoving the list into my pocket again. I tried to ignore the nagging feeling that I was missing something. What was I supposed to do about it anyway? It probably wasn’t important. She’d made her feelings abundantly clear when she’d left without so much as a note.
But as I left the room, and my foot hit the first stair, I knew I wasn’t going to be able to leave it alone. With every step I took, I increased my speed, until I was sprinting for my car.
“Johnny? You okay?” Eric yelled as I ran past him.
“I’m fine!” I yelled back, not slowing down now that I’d made up my mind. “I’ve got to stop a plane.”
17
Isabel
My tears had mostly dried by the time I made it to the airport, and I tried to sort out how to get home. The woman behind the desk booked me on a plane to a bigger airport where I could catch an international flight, but had then apologized, because the wait would be a while. I didn’t leave for hours.
I told her that was fine, checked my luggage, and then wandered in the direction of the waiting area. Big glass windows overlooked the tarmac and the surrounding national park. Massive mountains rose up from the frozen ground, seemingly close enough to touch if I’d just step outside. Light snow fell outside the window, and I sank down onto a seat, settling in for the long wait.
I pulled my Kindle from my bag and tried to read, but the lines kept blurring as fresh rounds of tears threatened. I blinked them back, but my thoughts were so wrapped up in everything Johnny that reading was out of the question. My phone buzzed as I was putting my Kindle back in my bag, and Johnny’s name flashed on the screen. A sudden wave of nausea engulfed me.
My finger hovered over the answer button. But I couldn’t talk to him. Not after I’d run off the way I had. I hadn’t even left a note. I’d been so freaked out by the words marry me that all I could think about was escaping. I pressed my thumb down on the cancel button and I switched the phone off. I’d call him when I got back to Sydney. When I’d had time to think and cry and when there were thousands of miles of ocean between us. Once I was back, I could walk along the beach and let the sea and the salt air clear my head. And then I’d call him and explain everything.
I’d explain that there were things he didn’t know about me. Things I hadn’t said, and things that weren’t his fault. I’d explain them all when I could think straight.
A sob threatened in my chest, and I hiccupped, blinking hard to keep my tears at bay. So much for just getting over the man on the flight home. I knew deep within my heart that this loss was one that would scar me more than any other.
I wouldn’t get over Johnny West anytime soon.
“Boy trouble?” an elderly voice next to me said, and when I looked over, an older man smiled at me gently.
I forced myself to smile back. “How did you know?”
He shifted over a seat, so he sat beside me and patted my arm. “I used to be one, you know. Broke a few hearts in my time.”
Despite my woes a smile stretched my mouth. “I bet you did.”
“First one was Nancy Darrington. She was fourteen, I was thirteen—” The man winked at me. “Older woman and all. I had the charm, even back then.”
I grinned. I listened as the man talked about his past, grateful for the distraction from my present. I lost myself in his stories of the thirties and forties and the women he’d loved and lost. “And then I met Sheila.”
“She was special?” I asked, enthralled.
He nodded, a sad smile on his lips. “The most special. We were a older than most. Both of us never having married. But I knew the moment I saw her that she was the one.”
My heart swelled. “You married her?”
He nodded. “You bet I did. Married her just five months after we met. Welcomed our first son a year later. And another, the year after that.”
“That’s amazing.”
He fiddled with the brim of the hat resting on his lap. “She was amazing. We had forty-three years together.” Then he shook his head, a hint of sadness creeping into his expression. “Wasn’t long enough.”
I pressed my hand over his weathered one. “I’m very sorry for your loss. Was it recent?”
He shook his head. “No, but you don’t get over a love like that.”
The man grew quiet, seemingly tired of talking. I let him be, his words seeping in through my skin and straight to my heart.
You don’t get over a love like that.
My breathing quickened.
No. You didn’t.
I scrambled to my feet, horror washing over me. I couldn’t leave. Not like this.
The old man looked up at me. “You going somewhere, sweetheart?”
I practically hopped in delight. “Yes. I need to go.”
He looked confused, but took my hand when I offered it. It didn’t seem like enough. I bent and pressed my lips to his wrinkled cheek.
I pulled back quickly. “I’m so sorry. You just reminded me of something.”
He winked. “I’ve never been one to complain about a pretty girl kissing me.”
I grinned and spun on my heel, storming back toward the check-in desks. I needed to get my bags off that aeroplane and get in a cab back to Two Creek Plains. I fished out my passport and my boarding ticket and—
“Isabel.”
I blinked as Johnny’s familiar voice halted me in my tracks. When I looked around, there he was. All six foot something of tall broad-shouldered man, with his ever-present baseball cap and dark denim jeans. I raked my eyes over him, unable to believe he was actually in front of me.
“Johnny! I—”
He held a hand up to stop me, and my stomach lurched at the look on his face. Gone were the playful smiles and adoring expressions I’d taken for granted. And in their place was stony determination. “I just need to know one thing.” His voice was hard, and my fingers itched to reach out and touch him. To soothe the ache in him that I’d caused when I’d rejected him.
“Anything.”
To my surprise, he pulled a wrinkled piece of paper from his pocket. “Remember the day
you wrote this?”
I remembered. I remembered every detail of that day. And all of the ones we’d spent together afterwards. If you’d asked me what I’d done at work for those weeks, I couldn’t have given you a single answer. But every moment with Johnny was etched into my memory like a carving set in stone. I was never going to forget the day I met him. “Yes.”
“You said there were twenty-five reasons you hated Christmas. One for every year you were alive. But you only wrote twenty-four on the list. Why? What was the last reason?”
I dropped my purse to the ground and sucked in a breath. “Do you want to sit and talk?”
“I’ll stand.”
I bit my lip. I deserved that. “I didn’t tell you everything. About my past. I didn’t deliberately lie, it didn’t specifically come up, but there is something I should have told you.”
I paused, but he didn’t say anything, so I continued, hating this silence. Hating the gulf of space that seemed to open up between us. Just this morning, I’d felt closer to this man than anyone I’d ever known before. And now I’d ruined all that. “Three Christmas Eves ago, I met a man named Lachlan. I was young and foolish, but I fell head over heels in love with him. A year later, on Christmas Eve, he asked me to marry him.”
Johnny looked like I’d punched him in the stomach. But I rushed to get it all out, because I knew he needed to know the full story. “Wait. There’s more. Last Christmas Eve, and the reason I hate December 24 more than any other day in December, is because that was the day he left me at the altar.”
Johnny’s jaw dropped open. Then closed. Then opened again. No words came out though.
“Yeah, I know. It was the worst moment of my life. I’d planned this magical Christmas Eve wedding that was going to take place right as the sun was starting to set over our favorite beach. I’d bought my dream dress and all my friends and family were there. Christmas had never had any special meaning to me, but that date—December 24—held a lot of significance in our relationship. So it seemed only fitting that we be married on that date too.”