Page 41

“I did. It was true then as well.”

Mara rested her forearms lightly against the rail, still holding her cider between both hands. The moon was bright enough to pick out the ridgeline, but most of the valley had gone into darkness, and only the lights remained.

“Which one’s the bakery?”

Gabe leaned in beside her and pointed, close enough that she could feel the warmth coming off him. “That row there. Main Street runs left to right, and you can just make out the gap where the hardware store is.”

“And the lodge?”

“Behind us and to the right, but you can’t see it from here.”

For a while after that they stood together. Then Gabe finished the last of his cider, and Mara drank hers too, and they moved on, dropping the empty cups into a trash can beside the trail a little farther ahead.

She tucked her hands into her jacket pockets as they walked. Without the cup between them she became much more aware of the cold, and of Gabe.

Their arms brushed. Then again. On purpose? She could not be sure.

A muddy patch crossed one side of the trail where fallen leaves had been churned beneath too many feet.

“Careful.” Gabe’s hand rested against the middle of her back as they stepped around it.

The touch was light and practical, and it still made her pulse jump.

Once they were past the mud, his hand fell away. Mara glanced at him and found he was looking ahead, but there was the faintest smile at one corner of his mouth. They carried on.

It was colder now. Even with her hands in her pockets, the cold had gotten into her knuckles. She took them out and rubbed them together, then held them to her mouth and breathed on them, her breath clouding in the cold air.

She really should have remembered gloves.

Gabe noticed. “Cold?”

“My hands are.” Mara flexed her fingers. “I forgot my gloves. I’m not used to it getting this cold quite so quickly.”

“You should have said.”

“It’s hardly an emergency.”

“No.” He stopped walking and turned toward her. “Give me your hands.”

Mara looked at him. “Both of them?”

“Preferably.” He wasn’t teasing. He held out his hands and waited, and Mara put them both into his.

His fingers closed around hers.

“Oh.” The word escaped before she could stop it.

Gabe’s hands were so warm, even though he had no gloves and hadn’t stuffed them in his pockets. He rubbed his palms slowly over her fingers, then enclosed them again, his much larger hands folding around hers.

“Better?”

“Much.”

“Your fingers are freezing.”

“I may have underestimated the mountains.”

“Just a little.” Gabe didn’t let go, and neither did she.