Sara's Gift (Small-Town Christmas Wishes Book 4)

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Sara's Gift (Small-Town Christmas Wishes Book 4) Page 2

by Kimberly Rose Johnson


  He shrugged. Saying no wasn’t an option. He’d do almost anything for Sara. “Where do I start?”

  She did a happy dance then gave him a quick hug. “You’re the best. Start with that box there. I’ll be right back.” She rushed toward the front and squealed.

  “You okay?”

  She didn’t answer.

  Concerned, he headed in the direction she had gone. “Sara!” She sat on the floor with Annabelle licking her face. “What happened?”

  Her shoulders shook.

  He chuckled. She must be okay if she was laughing so hard no sound came out. He squatted beside the dog and nudged her out of Sara’s face. “Hey, you okay?”

  Sara tilted her head, revealing her red face and watering eyes. “I really need to watch where I’m walking.” She pushed up to her legs and stood.

  “What happened?”

  “I tripped over Annabelle. She was sitting right in the middle of the walkway.”

  He’d warned her many times that the dog would put her out of business if someone was hurt because of her, but she refused to listen to logic. He didn’t blame her though. She loved Annabelle and couldn’t, in good conscience, leave her at home alone all day. “Are you hurt?”

  “My wrist hurts, but other than that, I feel fine.” She moved her left wrist in a circular motion.

  “You might want to have that examined.”

  “It’ll be fine. I have ice in the mini fridge in back.”

  “I’ll get it.” He retrieved the ice, and when he returned, he found Sara talking on the phone, ordering their pizza. She hung up the receiver. “It’ll be thirty minutes. Do you mind eating here?”

  “Nope. Here you go.” He held out the bag of ice he’d found in the freezer. It probably wouldn’t be enough. “I can pick up more ice.”

  “No. I’ll use snow if I need to. Besides, I’d rather you stay here and help me unload the boxes.”

  “So that’s why we’re eating here.” For someone who was ready for her workday to end, she wasn’t in any hurry to leave. Using a box cutter, he sliced through the packaging tape then flipped back the flaps on the box she’d indicated earlier. He pulled out some kind of wire thing and held it up. “What is this?”

  She chuckled. “Don’t sound so horrified. It’s a wire frame for a wreath. I ordered the max I can accommodate in the class so I could get a price break. As it turns out, the class is full, so it all worked out.”

  “Good. Where do you want them?” He looked around the too full space.

  “Leave them in the box and tuck it under that table. All the class supplies go there.”

  He pushed the box under the table, reached for the next closest one and went through the same process. “Christmas ribbon.”

  “Same place.”

  This went on for the next thirty minutes or so until the bell on the shop door alerted them to a visitor.

  “That must be the pizza,” Sara said. Her tummy rumbled, and she slapped her arm across her trim stomach. No one would ever accuse Sara of being skinny, she wasn’t built like that, but rather she looked healthy, which looked good on her—very good. He shook his head to dislodge the thought. He couldn’t think about Sara like that. She was his best friend, and as such, off limits. She’d been burned a couple times too many by guys she thought were friends, and no way would he chance ruining their friendship by pursuing his feelings for her—what if she shut the door on their friendship forever? No, he’d rather settle for just-friends status than lose her forever.

  Chapter Two

  Sara bit into a piece of deep-dish pizza. “Okay, I’ll admit it. This is good.” She smiled at Gabe.

  “That wasn’t so difficult was it?” He shot a cheeky grin her way before stuffing half the piece into his mouth.

  “I still need to decide what to do with that money. Have you thought of anything?”

  “You could give it to a shelter or food bank.”

  “Both are good options. But Charity’s lawyer could have done that. Remember, we had the option of letting him choose a worthy cause or finding one ourselves. All of us decided we wanted to come up with something on our own.”

  “Tell me about her?”

  Sara shrugged. “I pretty much told you everything already.”

  “Humor me.”

  “Fine. We attended our high school Bible club together. One year we decided to play secret angels and anonymously bought a gift for someone. It was a lot of fun. Charity liked it so much she continued the tradition on her own every year until her death. None of us knew she’d done that. Anyway, now it’s up to her friends to carry on the tradition for one more year with the money she’d saved to use.”

  “And you want to do something spectacular.” Gabe took another bite.

  “I don’t know about that, but I want to do something special for someone. When I was a girl, my grandma used to choose a family in need then go Christmas shopping for them. On Christmas morning she’d deliver all the packages, ring the doorbell, then run and hide in the bushes so she could see their faces when they saw the gifts.”

  A soft smile tipped his lips. “I miss your grandma. She was a sweet lady.”

  “And feisty too.”

  “Yep,” He said. “I learned fast not to cross Grandma Benson.”

  “Remember that time you and I were tossing a football in her backyard? You threw a Hail Mary, and it knocked one of the towels off the clothesline in the backyard.”

  “How could I forget? She came running outside waving that mop at me like she was going to bash me over the head with it.” He chuckled.

  Sara snorted a laugh and slapped her hand over her mouth.

  Gabe laughed harder. “You know what I like about you?”

  All the air in the room felt like it’d been suddenly sucked out. “What’s that?”

  “You’re you. No pretense. What you see is what you get.” He reached out with a napkin and wiped the corner of her mouth. “And you’re a messier eater than me.”

  Her jaw dropped. “How rude.” She crumpled her napkin and tossed it at him.

  Gabe dodged to the left, easily avoiding the napkin. “Oh, please. You don’t know rude. But I think you’re on to something.”

  “What are you talking about?” Seriously, the man spoke in riddles sometimes.

  “Do what Grandma Benson did. Find a family in need and give them a special Christmas.”

  A flutter of excitement filled her. “You’re right. That’s perfect. But how do I find a family?”

  “I don’t know. That’s what you need to figure out next, I suppose. Maybe start with one of the schools. I imagine they might have an idea of who needs help. Or you could check with the office at church. I’m sure they could provide you with more than enough families in need.”

  “Great idea.” Springing for the pizza was more than worth it to get this great advice. “Fifteen hundred dollars is a lot of money for one family.”

  “Depends on what they need. A month’s worth of groceries could easily cost a thousand dollars for a family of four. Especially if any of the kids are teenaged boys. My parents used to say I was going to eat them out of house and home.” He took a swig from his water bottle.

  “You’re right. Which reminds me, I need to meet the new tenants in the apartment above the shop next door.”

  “Why? Are they causing trouble?”

  “No, nothing like that. Do you remember the girl that came in right before you left today?”

  Gabe nodded.

  “She lives there. I’d like to meet her mom since Emily spends so much time here.”

  “Sounds reasonable. We have half a pizza left. Want to take it up to them now?”

  “I don’t know.” The idea of offering leftover pizza to strangers seemed weird. “But you did give me an idea. I could bake a batch of cookies and take it over to them tomorrow night and introduce myself then.”

  He brushed his hands together and stood. “My work here is accomplished.”

  The
re were still quite a few boxes to sort through, but she could do it in the morning. She stood, gathered their garbage, tossed it into the receptacle, then clipped the leash on Annabelle, gathered her stuff, and headed for the door.

  He closed the lid on the pizza box and followed. “You want the rest of this?”

  “It’s all yours.” She flipped off the lights, followed him out the door with Annabelle by her side, and locked up.

  “Are you parked in your normal spot?”

  “Yes.” Sara slipped her arm around his as their shoes crunched on top of the crispy snow. “It’s sure cold tonight.”

  “Yep.”

  “You okay?” She glanced at Gabe.

  “What makes you ask?”

  “I didn’t realize it earlier, but you’re quieter than normal and a little cranky.”

  “I’m not cranky.”

  She chuckled. “Just kidding. But seriously, is everything okay?”

  “Yeah. My work computer froze at the end of the day, and my schedule’s on it.”

  “Ouch. Why don’t you print it out?”

  He looked at her, wide-eyed. “I thought the entire point of going digital was to reduce my carbon footprint and to cut down on paper. Don’t forget this was your idea”

  She shrugged. “I know, but you need to do what works for you.”

  “Now you tell me.” He draped an arm across her back and rested his hand on her shoulder. “If I didn’t love you, I’d disown you.”

  She laughed. “I’m not that bad.” She met his gaze, and her heart shot to her throat at the look in his eyes. He did mean love her as a friend, right?

  “What?” Gabe asked. “You have a weird look on your face.”

  “Do not.” She shrugged off his arm and pressed the unlock button on her key fob. “Oh, I met some of your clients today. Three women.”

  “They didn’t happen to say the time of their trip, did they?” Not knowing his schedule drove him nuts.

  “Sorry, no. But watch out, the tall one seemed more interested in you than their destination.”

  He remembered the auburn-haired beauty. She and her friends had stopped by the hanger this morning to book their ride. Her interest had been blatant, but he’d pretended not to notice. It had served him well in the past, and he’d continue that M.O. as long as it was effective.

  Sara pulled open the door to her SUV then sat behind the wheel. “Thanks for the help tonight. Will I see you tomorrow?”

  “I have no idea.” He frowned.

  “Right. Your schedule is being held hostage. I’m really sorry about that.”

  “Not your fault, but you’re welcome to feel guilty if it’ll score me some of those cookies you’re baking tonight.”

  She chuckled. “Such a schemer. I’ll double the batch and deliver them on my way to work. If you’re not there, I’ll leave them on your desk.”

  “Thanks.” He closed her door then stepped back and waved. The hanger owner would be there to let her in if he was in the air when she came by. He whistled, “Joy to the World” and headed toward his pickup. Not normally one to pay much attention to decorations, he couldn’t help but notice the lampposts were wrapped in green garland with a red bow at the top, right below the light. It gave their town an added homey feel.

  Speaking of homey, Sara made the best homemade chocolate chip cookies he’d ever tasted. His mouth watered even though he was full from the pizza. The three women who had booked a trip for the next day exited the restaurant directly in front of him. “Hello.”

  “Mr. Pilot. This is a surprise.” The tallest of the three openly appraised him. “We’re looking forward to our trip tomorrow, aren’t we, girls?”

  They nodded.

  “Do you ski in the back country often?” he asked.

  The short one shook her head. “We only go a couple of times a year. It’s a huge rush.”

  “I can only imagine.”

  “You don’t ski?” the short one asked.

  “Not if I can help it.” He chuckled. That was one thing he had in common with Sara. Neither of them skied. He dipped his head slightly. “Have a good evening.” He sauntered past the women. At least his pickup was close.

  He drove past Sara’s store on his way out of town and noted a woman in a rag-tag coat enter the door that led to the apartment Sara had mentioned. The woman needed a better jacket if she planned to survive a Colorado winter. He flipped on the radio to their local Christian station, and the tension from his day melted.

  The following morning Gabe arrived to work an hour early. Thankfully, his computer had decided to cooperate. He had a couple of hours before his first flight—plenty of time to do a thorough inspection of his helicopter. He stood and slipped a navy-blue jumpsuit over his normal flight clothes of flannel-lined hiking pants and shirt.

  “Good morning!”

  Sara. He looked over his shoulder and grinned. “You’re out and about early.”

  “I wanted to deliver the cookies before you get busy.”

  “That was thoughtful. Thanks.” He reached for the plate she held out to him, pulled up the foil, and snagged two chocolate chips cookies. “These are my favorite.”

  “I know. That’s why I made them rather than Christmas cookies. I figured Emily’s family wouldn’t care either way.”

  “Speaking of them. I think I saw her mom last night.”

  “Oh? What did she look like?”

  He frowned. “To tell the truth, I only noticed her sorry excuse for a coat.” He was usually more observant than that.

  “Hmm. Okay. Well, they’re my next stop. I thought I’d catch them before they leave for school and work.”

  “I’ll walk you out.”

  He stuffed a cookie into his mouth and savored the soft goodness. “Mmm. I don’t know how you did it, but these are even better than normal.”

  “I left out the nuts in case one of them is allergic.”

  He hadn’t missed the nuts even though they were a favorite food. “Hopefully no one in their family is gluten sensitive.”

  She sucked in a breath. “I hadn’t thought of that. But if they are, I guess my customers will get a treat instead.”

  “How’s your wrist feeling this morning?” he asked.

  “Fine. Stop by and see me later if you have time.”

  “How come?” He opened the door for her.

  “Do I have to have a reason?” She stepped into the cold morning.

  He shrugged. “I suppose not.” He watched as she jogged to her Jeep. Annabelle stood on the backseat looking through the window.

  Gabe waited until Sara was behind the wheel before closing the door.

  “Mornin,’” Forrest Staple, the hanger owner, said as he walked in from a side door. “Was that Sara’s Jeep I saw out there?”

  “Yes. She brought me some cookies.”

  Forrest raised a brow.

  “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what? I didn’t say a word.” Forrest went to the counter where he managed the day-to-day operations of Staple Flights. He’d retired a few years back from flying due to an issue with his eyes, but he couldn’t let his business go. They shared the hanger, and Gabe flew charters for Forrest when one of his pilots was unavailable.

  “You might not have said it, but you thought it.”

  Forrest chuckled. “Guess you don’t need to hear a confirmed bachelor tell you one more time to ask that woman out on a date.”

  “Nope. But you had to say it anyway, didn’t you?” He wasn’t as annoyed as he let on. They shared an easy banter most days, but he preferred to keep Sara out of the equation.

  “Don’t wait too long. Some fellow might come in and sweep her off her feet, and then where would you be?”

  “I’d still be her best friend.”

  “Don’t fool yourself,” Forrest said. “You think her husband would tolerate his wife having another man around who clearly has feelings for her?”

  Gabe looked at him.

  “What? No argumen
t?” Forrest shook his head and sat.

  “You have any clients today?”

  “First flight comes in from Denver in an hour. Busy day.”

  Gabe nodded then turned and headed for his chopper. He needed to shutter thoughts of Sara and focus on his pre-flight inspection. Forrest didn’t know what he was talking about. If Sara ever married, her husband would accept him as the friend he was.

  Who was he kidding? If he was married to Sara, he wouldn’t want her best friend to be some other guy.

  Chapter Three

  Sara knocked on Emily’s apartment door. She heard voices on the other side and hoped they wouldn’t mind the early visit. The door swung open.

  An older version of Emily frowned at her. “May I help you?” The woman looked at her with tired, but curious, eyes.

  Sara thrust the plate of cookies toward her. “Welcome to the neighborhood. I’m Sara Benson, and I own Gifts N’ More. I’ve met your daughter Emily and wanted to introduce myself before you leave for the day.”

  “That’s very kind of you.” She took the cookies.

  “Who is it, Mom?” A little boy who looked to be about eight ducked under his mother’s arm.

  Sara looked at the woman waiting for her response. Silence. She grinned at the cute kid with curly brown hair—must have gotten his hair from his dad. “I’m Sara.”

  “My name is Nolan.”

  “Where are my manners? I’m April Smith.” His mother held out her free hand. “You caught me at a bad time. Mornings are always a challenge getting four kids out the door in time for school, and this morning is proving to be especially difficult.”

  Sara shook April’s hand then dropped hers to her side. “I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll make this fast. Did Emily tell you about the wreath-making workshop this Saturday?”

  “She mentioned something, but we can’t take your charity.”

  “Oh, it’s not charity.” Sara’s thoughts shot to her old friend Charity, and her throat thickened. She cleared it. “Emily is walking my dog after school in exchange for the class.”

 

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