by Jenny Hale
“Where’s the universal key?” she asked, out of breath, her nose numb from cold.
Gran eyed her questioningly.
“Charlie hasn’t opened his door all night and I can’t get him to open it now. He isn’t answering his phone… I’m concerned about him.”
“It isn’t policy to allow you to use the universal key when a guest is in residence,” Gran warned.
“I’ll blame it entirely on myself. But something isn’t right. We need to check on him.”
Gran stood in front of her with her lips pursed and her hands clasped together, her deliberation making Scarlett feel panicky. She had to have that key… Her uneasiness about Charlie’s silence was too great not to go in and make sure everything was okay. Gran’s words about complicated men came sailing back to Scarlett but she pushed the thought away.
“All right,” Gran finally said. “I’ll get it.”
“Thank you.”
After she had the key in hand, Scarlett sprinted back down the icy porch, trying to move quickly without slipping. She got to Charlie’s door and knocked one more time to no answer. “I’m coming in!” she called, sliding the key in the lock. Slowly, she turned it and cracked open the door. “Charlie?”
No answer.
Scarlett pushed the door wider and looked around. The bed was made. The lights were all off. The bathroom empty. “Charlie?” she called again, more out of disbelief, hoping he’d pop out from somewhere. She walked around the bed, which was slightly disheveled but the covers were pulled up, peering into the bathroom once more. She yanked open the shower curtain. He wasn’t there.
He didn’t have a car at White Oaks. Anywhere he could’ve gone, he’d have had to travel on foot. In the snow? He’d have frozen, surely. The terrain was too hilly to get anywhere in this weather without a vehicle. Trepidation crawled up her spine. Her mind started to move to terrible thoughts—possibly due to the accident last night. It had put her on edge. She ran around to view the back lot. Thank God, her dad had gotten the truck out of the snow. She needed to look for Charlie.
Without a word to anyone, her heart beating wildly, she ran back into the main house, grabbed her coat and boots, and got her dad’s keys.
When she started the engine, Christmas music poured from the speakers. She cut it off. The silent minutes seemed to stretch indefinitely long as she waited for the engine to warm up enough to drive. The temperature gauge sat at “cold,” as if the needle were weighted and couldn’t be lifted. Scarlett tried Charlie’s cell once more, but service was spotty again. Frustrated, she tossed her phone onto the seat. When the gauge of the old truck had barely cleared the cold mark, she threw it into reverse and hit the gas, the tires grinding against the powdery snow.
Driving down the road, Scarlett surveyed the ditches, the edges of the mountain, all the clearings, praying she didn’t see anything. The snow was falling again, covering whatever had fallen last night. She put her wipers on to clear the windshield.
When she’d reached town, Scarlett pulled the truck to a stop outside The Bar and went inside.
“Hey, Cap,” she said, moving toward him with purpose. “Have you seen Charlie?”
“Not since last night,” he said. “Why, is everything okay?”
“I hope so. Thanks. I can’t stay… I need to find him.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
“Call me if you hear from him?”
“Okay. Good luck.”
She checked the bakery, the coffee shop, and the general store—no sign of Charlie. As she was walking briskly back to the truck, her breath short from fear, she ran into Loretta.
“You look like a storm cloud,” Loretta said. “Is everything all right with the woman and her son?”
“Yes,” she said, Loretta’s question slowing down her racing mind for a moment. “Uncle Joe is taking her to get some final tests done to make sure she’s completely out of the woods.”
“Oh, good.” The skin between Loretta’s eyes wrinkled as she took in Scarlett’s demeanor, clearly trying to make sense of it.
“Have you seen Charlie, by chance?”
“I saw work trucks at Amos’s on my way into town. Could he be there?”
“The roof! Loretta! You are an angel!” Scarlett threw her arms around Loretta and squeezed her tightly, relief settling over her with the hope that Charlie was okay and just directing the contractors on the roof repair. She’d forgotten that he’d organized someone to come out quickly. Maybe they’d picked him up…
Loretta offered a knowing smile and tightened the wool scarf around her neck before folding her arms, clearly trying to combat the icy temperatures. “You sure seemed worried about his whereabouts.”
“It’s more than that,” Scarlett said, not bothering to deny that she was feeling something for him this time. “And it’s… complicated.”
“It always is.”
“I need to run,” Scarlett said, getting into the truck and starting it up. “I’ll catch up with you later, okay?”
“Definitely!”
Scarlett put the truck in gear and headed straight for Amos’s.
Fifteen
Scarlett marched through the snow to Amos’s and rang the old buzzer at Charlie’s door, to the inquiring glances of the workmen on the roof. Their loud hammering subsided briefly in response to her presence, but then resumed. She wondered how they could even work in these temperatures.
She exhaled in complete relief when he answered, feeling as though she’d been holding her breath the whole time. She hadn’t expected it, but she felt a rush of caution at seeing him, an unforeseen need to shield him from his own perception of himself. Perhaps it was his childhood, and the kind of guilt he carried that she’d never experienced, but she wasn’t even upset that he’d come to Amos’s without telling anyone. After all, he was free to go as he pleased. She only wanted to make sure he was okay.
He hadn’t shaved and he looked exhausted, his eyes red. “I can’t talk right now, Scarlett,” he said gently, but it was clear that he’d closed right back up again—his usual coping method.
A wood saw squealed loudly, the sound moving between them, making it nearly impossible for him to hear her when she asked why.
When it lulled for a second, he said, “You should go.”
She shook her head, defiant. He wasn’t getting off that easily. She’d let him in, trusted him, given him a place to stay, and while her motives certainly had begun as a means to impress him with the inn, that wasn’t her entire intention anymore. She liked him. She liked how he felt comfortable enough with her to tell her things that were important to him—he trusted her with those feelings. She liked the way his smile made a flutter in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t deny it.
The saw whined again, piercing her ears. She ignored it, walking past him, shrugging off her coat, and sitting on the sofa he’d pushed to the side of the room. “I’ll wait,” she called over the ruckus.
Charlie seemed to be flustered by her presence. He marched over to her, openly exasperated but clearly keeping himself in check, and took a seat beside her. The kindness she’d seen was slowly fading from his eyes, replaced by a manic sort of hurry. It was clear that he wanted her to go, and nothing they’d shared prior to this moment was present in his mind as he sat there beside her.
She was just bothered enough by the situation that her emotions got the best of her. “You don’t like facing things,” she decided loudly.
What if she had stars in her eyes and she was missing the bigger picture, a picture Gran was able to see being a bystander to the situation. If he was really the kind of person Gran had thought he was, then maybe he needed to hear that. He’d been vulnerable about his own feelings, but when she thought about it now, other than monetary donations, last night was the first time she’d seen him think about others. Could it be because he didn’t do that very often?
“What?” he asked sharply, evidently taken aback by her observation.
“You
don’t face anything,” she repeated. “I know you miss your dad. But you came back here after Amos was already gone. Why didn’t you come before, when he was aching to see you? And something went on with you and Janie, but when it came to facing that, you ran again.”
Charlie took her by the arm lightly and pulled her into his bedroom, shutting the door, muffling the noise a bit.
“You don’t know anything,” he said, frustrated, standing so close to her that she could smell the clean scent of his shirt.
His breathing was slightly harried but steady, his eyes boring into her, and she realized once they were alone that he wasn’t angry. She’d hurt him with her assessment. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t face things; it was that he was wounded. Even the most aggressive wild animals often sought out solitude when they were hurt. As she took him in right then, she could see remnants of the commanding presence he must have had in business, but something had caused him to flee, to find refuge in the only place he’d ever found love.
“Then tell me,” she said tenderly. “There isn’t anything that can’t be fixed, Charlie.”
“That’s not true.” He hadn’t let down his guard yet. He was still clearly stung by what she’d said. Remorse rose in her throat, and she realized in that moment that she hadn’t trusted her gut like she’d told Heidi to do. Instead, she’d let someone else decide how she should feel, and that wasn’t like her.
“I came back to see my father,” he said, his lips pursing with emotion. He moved so close to her that she could feel the warmth of his breath, the intensity and longing in his eyes making her want to put her arms around him to calm him down, but he continued. “I came back to find him and he’d died, and no one told me. I was a horrible son, but I deserved to know. I didn’t run from a thing. I came back because I needed to tell him what an awful son I’d been, to tell him that I love him, and that I’m so sorry for all the years we didn’t have together. Janie was the person who made me see what I’d done.”
His admission stunned Scarlett. And she was even angrier with herself for letting others change her opinion of him. His behavior was just so confusing that she couldn’t get a hold on what he was thinking or who he was. She was still making sense of his actions. “Janie thinks you’re a terrible person,” Scarlett said in a whisper, confused, wondering how they knew each other.
Charlie nodded. “Yes. She would think that. In a lot of ways I am, Scarlett.”
“I don’t believe it.” She put her hands on his face and looked into his eyes, needing him to trust her. She’d never doubt her own conclusions again. She could barely stand to see the pain in his heart and she wanted him to know that if he needed her, she would be there for him.
“You don’t want to believe it.” He pulled away from her. “You want me to be that boy you met so many years ago, but I’m not. I’m broken.”
Scarlett winced at that word. She could feel herself moving toward feelings she didn’t want to have for him. She didn’t need him to be broken. She couldn’t go down that road again. Was she only attracted to his brokenness? Old habits die hard, she thought to herself.
“I don’t want you to be anything,” she said. But that was a lie. She wanted him to be strong. His authoritative presence told her that he could be, had his life been different. She had to focus on the issue at hand. “Janie came all the way to Silver Falls to see you. And you disappeared. That’s why I came over today. She clearly has some unfinished business with you, and I just want to make sure that whatever it is she needs is taken care of.”
“I disappeared because the last person she needed to see after such a traumatic night was me. I ruined her life. And I don’t know why she’s come to find me, except maybe to yell at me some more. But I can’t help her.” He ran his fingers through his disheveled hair in frustration. “I came here to try to move forward, but I’ve made such a wreck of things that I can’t escape it.”
“Why don’t you at least talk to her?”
He started to turn away in uncertainty, but she grabbed his hand, sending his gaze back to hers.
“I’ll be there with you.” And as she looked at Charlie, it occurred to her… She felt something different between them than she’d had with others. She’d only grasped it just now, in this very moment. She wouldn’t be there to be his strength, but rather his supporter. He didn’t need someone to fix him. He needed someone to be in his corner when he felt alone.
Charlie didn’t answer. While he hadn’t yet agreed to meet Janie, something had shifted in Scarlett and she knew that they could do this together.
“She’s pregnant—did you know that?” Scarlett took Charlie’s hand and wound her fingers around his, openly showing her affection for him to let him know she’d be right there when he needed her. He didn’t pull away. “She’s gone to have a few tests to be sure she and the baby are all right.”
Charlie blew air through his lips, his shoulders tensing. “My God.” The news seemed to surprise him. “How is Trevor today?” he asked, suddenly concerned.
“He’s just fine.”
“A baby…?” He looked into the distance, obviously stunned.
“I know. She said she didn’t have money for the hospital co-pay. And her car is totaled. Trevor doesn’t have a Christmas… I want to help her.”
He nodded, thinking. “I can at least give them a Christmas,” he said. “Could you help me wrap some gifts up for her and Trevor? I’d like to do it anonymously. She may not want any of it if it’s from me.”
“Of course.” While she didn’t understand what was going on yet, Scarlett had faith that Charlie could handle this on his own. She didn’t doubt it anymore. And Scarlett would do whatever she could do to encourage him.
“I know the town closes down on Christmas Eve. Are any of the shops open at all tonight?”
“People will unlock their shops for us—for this. I’ll make some calls and explain what’s going on. Janie and Trevor both need clothes. She’s about my size and even fits my shirts, but she’ll need some maternity clothes as she gets bigger, I’d imagine. Trevor could do with some new shoes as well.”
“No problem. I’ll get them whatever they need.”
“Should I call Cheryl who owns the clothing shop in town and tell her we’re on our way?”
“Yes.” He opened the door and grabbed his coat from the hook in the hallway, then retrieved hers from the sofa.
“I’ll call the toy shop too.”
“Of course.”
On their way out, Charlie told the roofers to use whatever they needed in his house, that he’d leave it open for them. Then, as he led the way, he placed his hand affectionately on Scarlett’s back to help her through the snow. She looked up at him and, in that moment, they were unified in their effort to help Janie and Trevor.
“You say you’re broken,” she said to him, “but it’s in your kindness that you’re whole. You’re so kind, Charlie. You just need to let more people see it.”
He stopped, facing her as the snow fell lightly around them. She stared at him, not even attempting to hide how she felt about him, and she knew that he could sense it, but it didn’t bother her.
His lips parted and he shifted slightly toward her, tipping his head down to line up with hers as she looked up at him. She didn’t feel the cold or hear the construction anymore. She was lost in the silent, unspoken thoughts between them. She’d not seen this moment coming, and she hadn’t prepared for it. She believed in him, and she understood now that he found strength in her belief. Unsure of why, she wanted him to take her hand or kiss her lips. It wasn’t choreographed under a bunch of mistletoe or beside the fire. It was real and honest, and just between the two of them.
But then he took in a breath of icy air and stepped back. “We need to work fast,” he said. “We only have a few hours to find the gifts, wrap them, and get them under the tree.”
The change in direction jarred her and she scrambled to refocus while simultaneously processing the shift in his dark eyes. Bu
t then she realized that he was right. They had a lot to do and not much time to do it.
Scarlett texted Uncle Joe just before going into the shop to find clothes for Janie. She’d explained quickly what was going on and told her uncle to secretly find out a few things that Trevor liked, along with their clothing and shoe sizes.
Cheryl, the owner of the clothing shop, let them in, locking the door behind them and turning on the overhead lights. “Take all the time you need,” she said, with concern on her youthful face. She’d always looked younger than her age. She was about as old as Scarlett’s father, but her sandy brown hair had never grayed, and the only lines on her face were the ones that creased when she laughed, which she did quite a bit. She pointed them to the women’s section of the shop. “I have gift wrap. As you find things you want to buy, bring them up, and I’ll start wrapping.”
“Oh, you’re so wonderful, Cheryl,” Scarlett said.
They started looking. Scarlett feverishly flipped through the racks of clothes, Cheryl standing by to take items to the counter. Charlie helped get things down that were hanging up high, and he searched for accessories like belts and socks. It didn’t take them long to have a nice sized pile at the register, Cheryl speedily unfolding gift boxes, stuffing them with the items, and wrapping as fast as her fingers would go, each gift disguised in shiny red paper with gold oval seals from the shop holding the ribbon in place.
Scarlett’s phone pinged with a text from Uncle Joe, giving her everything she needed to finish their shopping.