Page 4 of Until the Last Leaf Falls

You’re not invisible.

Your laugh is the best hug.

You shouldn’t hide from the world.

You smiled today. You should do it more.

Niles read, made notes, formulated theories and discarded them, even as he tried to work out who was watching him and how they were leaving books and messages for him in a locked building.

For the first time ever, he didn’t prolong his Tuesday morning book round. He didn’t try to start conversations, didn’t browse the market in the hope of catching someone’s eye. Instead, he nearly skipped through the town, handing out books, collecting the read ones, and moving on with a cheery wave.

He attracted strange glances, but what people saw or thought they saw wasn’t important. Another book and another message might be waiting for him on his return, and that was all that mattered to him.

Niles passed through the carriage arch into the courtyard—and froze.

A man occupied the bench between the ginkgo and the maple, and had he not moved, Niles might not have spotted him in his dark green corduroy trousers, amber shirt, and scarlet jumper. He even wore a jacket to match his riot of russet curls.

He sat in the glade as if he belonged there, yet Niles had never seen him before.

Conversations

“Good morning,” Niles greeted. “The library opens an hour later on Tuesday mornings.”

“So I realised.”

A wash of warmth enveloped Niles on hearing the stranger’s voice. Soft and unhurried, it tempered a chill Niles had long ignored. He found himself leaning towards the man before he caught himself and pulled back. Ridiculous. The stranger had said three words. “I’m sorry you had to wait.”

“I’m not. I enjoyed the chance to commune with your trees. This tiny glade is exquisite.”

Niles’s cheeks heated. “Thank you. I try to make them comfortable, seeing they’re such a comfort to me.”

He stole a glance at his visitor. Thick lashes and a web of fine lines framed expressive amber eyes. High cheekbones drew the gaze. And the riotous hair made guessing his age near impossible. Add the way he dresses and he’s like… the spirit of autumn.

Niles gave himself a mental slap for being so fanciful.

“Why don’t you come in?” he offered. “We have a decent selection of books and coffee.”

Niles unlocked the door to the library, thrilled to see another book on his reception desk, this time topped with a golden chestnut leaf that couldn’t have come from his glade. The manner of the messages’ arrival was still a mystery, but ever since the first one, he looked for them like shiny pebbles along the path of his day.

Though this morning’s message would have to wait while he attended to his visitor, who stood two steps beyond the entrance and took in Niles’s realm.

What did he think of the mix of cafe and library Niles had created? Was it obvious that very few people made use of the comfy sofas and squashy chairs placed between the shelves, the desks set aside for study, and the cosy lounging area?

“How did you choose the books?” the stranger asked, following Niles to the coffee maker.

“Very unscientifically. I started with my favourite books and authors, then added the ones I’d been wanting to read for a long time. Then I asked librarians about the books people like to check out.” He pointed to the empty spaces on the shelves. “I read book catalogues every week and keep adding new books all the time.”

It was an expensive hobby, all things considered. And a lonely one. Maybe he should have joined the local football team.

Niles shuddered and took two mugs from the shelf to distract himself. “Can I offer you a drink?”

The man’s expression brightened. “Can your machine make chocolate?” he asked with a child’s delight.

“Sure.” Niles made the biggest mug he had.

“My name is Orren.” He took the mug like a precious gift. “I’m a storyteller and I love old books.”

“Then libraries must be your natural habitat.”