Page 53 of Postmarked December

One of the two Clydesdale horses snorted, its reins jingling.

“I think we owe Toby a huge thank-you,” Marion said to Heather as Anthony helped his wife climb up the step into the ornate carriage. “Without his thoughtfulness, none of this would be possible.”

They’d taken a couple of quilts from the closet in the cabin, rolled them up, and brought them to keep warm on the ride. Heather spread hers over her legs.

“I know. I still can’t get over it. He could barely keep up with boxing a few documents for storage, and whenever I came home from work, he was asleep. I have no idea how he managed lining everything up and all the letters… I keep trying to figure that out.”

“You always said he could do amazing things,” Marion said.

“Yeah, but this would be tough for anyone, given what he was dealing with.”

Marion shook her head, looking baffled as Anthony squeezed in beside her, sandwiching her in the middle.

“I still have one more envelope to open,” Heather said.

“Hopefully it’s not time sensitive.” Marion made a face.

Heather laughed. “Yeah, I hope not too.”

As the carriage lurched forward, Marion looked around. “No white SUVs in sight, so we’re probably okay to wait.”

“It is kind of weird to think that someone might be watching to see when we do certain things. I have to admit that this morning, lying in bed, I wondered—hoped—if it could be Nick and that’s why he hasn’t called. I keep waiting for him to pop out around every corner.”

“He hasn’t responded at all?”

“No. I keep thinking about it, and I’m sure he has a good reason. He wouldn’t just ghost somebody. And in a way, the quiet time was helpful because it gave me space to get my head straight. I’d be ready for anything that happened between us. I feel strong—like I can stand on my own two feet. And I have to wonder if when I get back home, Nick will do something amazing, because a big gesture sounds like him.” She thought her heart might burst with the anticipation of seeing him again.

Marion brightened. “Wouldn’t that be incredible if he was the one behind the notes?”

“Too good to be true,” Heather said, but deep down, she wished it could be him. “But I did sit next to him on the same plane. He could’ve been following me. As far as I know, he was in Greenville for an actual meeting, but what if he wasn’t? What if he was behind all this, and he’s waiting to give me time to process it all before we jump into something?”

Marion pulled her blanket over her arms. “Yeah, but if he’s behind it and he was here, wouldn’t he text you back to throw you off the scent?”

Heather pursed her lips in thought. “You’d think so. But the situation might also be weird for him. If all the notes really have been delivered by Nick, it might feel awkward to move forward with me while he’s delivering Toby’s messages.”

Marion offered an empathetic tilt of her head. “You’ve got a point. Give him a little time. Maybe once you get through the holiday, he’ll call.”

They clip-clopped down a quiet ribbon of road framed by the Smoky Mountains that made up the main street in Wears Valley.

“The pessimistic side of me, however, worries that, if Nick isn’t behind these notes, then I’m the reason he hasn’t responded, that I ruined things.”

Marion twisted toward her. “How?”

“I told him about Toby, and I also said I felt stronger after having met him. So I dropped the bomb that I’m a widow and I probably sounded clingy. He might have gone running for the hills. But I was just being honest.” She shook her head. “I don’t know how to do the dating thing.”

“From a guy’s perspective, I’m sure you’re overthinking,” Anthony said, joining the conversation.

Heather pulled the blankets up tighter, being mindful not to take too much from Anthony’s end. “That makes me feel better. But am I overthinking? Because he’s gone completely silent. As in not even responding to my question.”

“You could try to call and ask him,” Marion suggested.

“No way. Not after two ignored texts. I have my dignity.” She pointed out the log cabins and small shops that sat back from the pavement, their porches dotted with rocking chairs and trimmed with evergreen garlands, red bows, and soft white lights that glowed against the gray mist in the winter air. Anthony and Marion were there to enjoy the holiday. They didn’t need to get tangled in her drama.

But she couldn’t let Nick’s silence go, and it was nice to bat around her thoughts with them. All she wanted to do was make sense of the situation. “If he isn’t behind the notes, ghosting me is a pretty terrible thing to do, even if I did come off too heavy,” she said. “All he has to do is be straightforward with me. And he seemed so honest. After a weekend with him, not responding at all is unacceptable, really.”

“I agree,” Marion said.

Anthony chimed in. “So do I.”