Page 38 of Saved By Noel
Clara shrugs. “True. But everything you have around here seems pretty fantastic, too.”
She peers up at me, and I notice a smear of powdered sugar on her cheek. Without thinking, I reach up and brush it off with my thumb. Surprise flashes in her eyes, but not scared surprised . . . more like, pleasantly surprised. “Uh, just a smudge of powdered sugar there,” I mumble.
“Oh, thanks,” Clara responds, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks. “And thanks for coming to the rescue. Again. I promise to work on my Girl Scout skills.”
“No need; I got you covered any time,” I say. I’m treading water in the ocean of Clara’s blue eyes, seconds away from going under. I whisper goodnight and turn toward the door before it’s too late.
Chapter twenty-four
Clara
“Ican’t wait to see it in person!” Mads squeals next to me from the passenger seat.
“You’re going to love it,” I tell her. “The backyard is a secret woodland oasis.”
I’ve been begging Madison to come with me to see the cabin and meet Sydney. After making biweekly trips to Noel the past three months, Syd is beginning to feel like one of my closest friends. I want her and Madison to meet since I talk about them to each other all the time. My parents came with me the first weekend I visited in April, so I assured Mads that I had practice sleeping on the couch and she could sleep in my bed.
The true reason that Mads is here, however, is the irresistible opportunity to meet Mayor McScrooge for herself.
It’s a tiny town, meaning I’ve seen Clark on multiple of my trips here. Although, he must have sworn off Davis and Syd from planning any other arranged meetings. I thought maybe after the smoke detector rescue, he might act more casually around me, but not so much.
In March, he came into Noland’s while I was listening to Emily share about how many extra gray hairs three teenagers had inflicted over the course of spring break. He couldn’t ignore Emily talking to him, so he just stood there, visibly uncomfortable until he was able to excuse himself from the conversation.
Last month, I was taking a walk along the river, and I saw him out with Chase. When Chase saw me, he came running out of the river and attacked me with his soaking wet fur and kisses. Clark scolded him, but I loved it. As I scratched Chase’s belly, Clark asked me how writing was going. I gave a vaguely positive answer, remarked on the nice weather, then asked how things were going around town. He evaded answering, pulling Chase away for a quick exit instead.
So it goes with Mr. Magic Eye puzzle. Thoughtful and semi-approachable one minute, evasive and cold the next.
Part of me thinks that I should write him off completely—quarantine him to the acquaintance zone and go about writing at the cabin the way I originally intended. But every time I convince myself of such, I remember all that he’s been through, all the pressure weighing him down. And gosh darn it—I just want to help the man.
The magnetic attraction drawing me toward him also doesn’t make the acquaintance zone option any easier.
We pull into the driveway, and Madison is appropriately impressed by my quaint cabin. I give her the grand tour—which takes all of two minutes—ending with the sunroom. Madison stops abruptly in the doorway.
“Clara, I love you, but has anyone ever told you that you have a problem?” she asks.
“What? They’re just plants. You know I like plants,” I say, pointing to theYou’re Unbeleafableshirt I’m wearing.
“Yeah, but this is . . . obsession level,” she replies, face laced with mock seriousness.
I scan the room. Sure, it’s on the verge of overflowing with foliage, but I couldn’t resist finally buying all the plants I’ve had my eye on for years. Not now that I have adequate sunlight to keep them alive. Thus far, the plants have all survived with being watered approximately every other week, so adding a new plant or two on each trip just kind of happened.
Ignoring Madison’s teasing, I lead her out to the back patio. I purchased a padded love seat to go along with the rocking chair on the deck, and I also put up poles for strings of patio lights. I managed it all by myself without calling Clark for help, thank you very much. We don’t talk about how crooked they may be.
“Wow, this is gorgeous,” Mads says, awestruck. “I can see why you come down here frequently.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty perfect.” I sigh. “I mean, it would bemoreperfect if it was No-el and not Nole, but at leastthisspace is perfect.”
“Speaking of Nole, when do I get to meet the Grinch incarnate?”
“Tomorrow afternoon,” I reply with an eye roll. “Syd and Davis are hosting a big cookout at their house. I assume he’ll be there.”
Mads rubs her hands together, an evil glint in her eye.
“Behave yourself, Mads,” I chasten. Not that I actually expect her to.
Chapter twenty-five
Clark
