Page 70 of Starry Nights over Dragonfly Lake

Right now, Noah was trying to suppress his own thoughts from considering Beth’s underwear.

‘So either could arrive in your Christmas stocking?’ he asked, quickly changing the subject.

Beth’s good mood appeared to fade a little. ‘I wouldn’t know,’ she told him. ‘I’ve never had one.’

He looked at her for a moment. ‘Really?’

Even his own father had managed to sticksome chocolate and cheap plastic tat inside an even cheaper stocking when he had been growing up. Perhaps not every year but at least he had experienced receiving a Christmas stocking.

‘We always had a present under the tree in whatever children’s home I was housed in at that time, so that was nice,’ said Beth, trying and failing to look cheerful. ‘But stockings never seemed to be a thing. So I always made my own. Sewed together two pieces of red felt and put a new pen and a couple of chocolates in there from the kitchen. Then I placed it at the bottom of my bed on Christmas Eve.’ She frowned. ‘Silly now I come to think of it. I always knew what was in there. I guess I was still hoping Santa was real.’

His heart ached for her in that moment.

‘Wait a minute, Santa’s not real?’ said Noah, in a mock shocked tone, hoping to cheer her up. It worked as Beth’s face lit up.

‘Don’t say I’ve ruined Christmas for you! I’ll never forgive myself!’ she said, laughing. ‘How will I ever make it up to you?’

For a second, he was going to suggest a kiss. It had been on his mind for some time, those fake kisses in front of Jeremy. Although there was nothing fake about Beth, especially her soft lips.

‘Give me a biscuit and we’ll call it even,’ he said, forcing away the urge to take her in his arms and find out what it was like to kiss Beth when there was nobody about.

37

After Noah had eaten his biscuit, Beth was just thinking how relaxing it was watching him work on the boat when she glanced over to the nearby workbench and saw a mouse scuttling across the surface.

She leapt up from the stool she had been sitting on with a shriek.

Noah jumped. ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked, rushing across to her.

‘Mouse!’ she shouted, pointing at the offending small animal.

He looked at her in amazement. ‘How can someone as bright as you be scared of something that small?’ he asked.

‘I know,’ she told him, shuffling so Noah was between her and the mouse. ‘It’s very frustrating and not logical at all.’

‘It’s not even that big,’ he said, smiling back at her. ‘I think it’s a dormouse.’

‘It’s plenty big enough,’ she told him, backing away from the bench. ‘I tell myself that the fact they communicate through ultrasonic sound is pretty amazing.’ She wrapped her arms around her body. ‘But mostly I hate that they move so fast.’

She shuddered, watching warily as Noah ushered the mouse away from the workbench where it disappeared into one of the many dark corners.

‘All gone,’ he told her. His grin lit up his handsome face and she couldn’t help but smile in return.

‘You deserve another cookie for that,’ she said, going over to take one from the napkin for him.

As Noah went over to the boat once more, Beth joined him to look up at the giant struts of wood that ran the length of the large boat.

She reached out to stroke one plank. ‘What was it about boatmaking that attracted you in the first place?’ she asked.

He took his time to reply, finishing his cookie before speaking. ‘I guess it’s the sense of accomplishment from creating something from nothing,’ he told her. He reached up to place his hand next to hers. ‘See this piece of wood? That’s come from a mighty cedar tree and has now become part of this boat that will hopefully be used for many years to come.’

‘So it’s the longevity that interested you?’ she asked.

He dropped his hand. ‘I guess it was the feeling of making something that would last.’ He appeared to hesitate before carrying on. ‘Everything was such a mess growing up, so disruptive. I think that’s why it’s so satisfying to work on something like this. Something steady that could be kept and remain the same.’

‘So perhaps it was even therapeutic,’ Beth told him.

‘Perhaps,’ he replied, nodding thoughtfully.