AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I don’t suppose you could drive Ella to town, Baird?” Cara asked hopefully. “I know it’s going to be crowded, and parking might be a nightmare, but I always think having a car to put packages in makes shopping, easier.”
“Oh, count me in. I’d love to go Christmas shopping,” Baird answered, a playful light in his warm brown eyes. “Especially on the busiest shopping day of the year.”
Everyone laughed and Cara promised to send Ella her shopping list. Ella and Baird returned to the cottage to get ready for their day out. Ella changed into warmer clothes and shoes that would be warm, and good for walking. Dressed, she drew her hair into a ponytail and slicked on some lipstick, before grabbing an additional sweater from the foot of her bed and heading downstairs.
Baird was outside at the car already, cleaning off the windshield and knocking away fallen leaves.
He looked so industrious buffing off his windshield, making her think of a warrior preparing his sword for battle, that she laughed out loud.
He glanced up and caught her smile. “What are you giggling about now?”
“You’re doing an excellent job cleaning the glass. I’m impressed.”
“I don’t think that was why you were laughing.”
“Okay, I was actually picturing you in a kilt cleaning your sword, but I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“I do have a kilt, but sadly, no sword.”
“Every warrior should have a sword.”
“Or a bow and arrow.”
“Would you have preferred a bow and arrow?” she asked, climbing into the passenger seat after he’d opened the door for her.
“Why does it have to be one or the other?” he answered, closing the door firmly behind her.
Ella just smiled, and she kept smiling because she was looking forward to spending the morning with Baird, not at the house, not with all the relatives, but just being out and doing something different, and feeling free.
As Baird started the car, Ella glanced at Cara’s list. Cara wanted a silvery blue cardigan for Dorothy, a cashmere shawl in brown and gold tones for Emma, and for Uncle Frederick dark brown driving gloves, fur lined if possible. Cara had written down sizes, with the note that UK sizes were different than US sizes. Ella noticed that Cara hadn’t put anything down for Alec, but maybe that was because she’d already purchased something for him before being put on bedrest.
Christmas shopping in an English village was nothing like shopping at home with the American big malls and chain retailers. The shops in Bakewell were small and each unique. The town itself was teeming with people and cars. Everything had been decorated and exuded so much holiday spirit that Ella was practically bouncing in her seat, eager to be outside and part of the festive atmosphere.
Cars were clogging the narrow roads, everyone competing for a parking spot, but Baird found one when Ella was sure they’d never get lucky. He parked in the tiny spot with enviable ease and then out of the car, he took Ella’s arm and navigated the crowded streets as if he was an intrepid New Yorker.
“I can tell you’ve lived in big cities,” Ella said, as he straight armed a boy who nearly ran into her. “You know how to clear a path.”
“It helps when you’re bigger than most,” he answered, keeping her close to his side.
Ella liked how protective he was and felt warm and wonderfully safe with her hand in his arm, and his big frame sheltering her from pedestrians too busy talking and eating to realize their strollers and shopping baskets were bumping into everyone else.
They crossed the street, and ahead a trio of musicians played on one corner while a magician performed on another, hoping to earn a few coins. Bakewell looked like something from a movie with all the wreaths on doors and windows, and the greenery and candles in other shop windows. One shop had a particularly long line, and Ella was fascinated by the sign.The Original Bakewell Tart. She didn’t know what a Bakewell tart was, but it sounded delicious and, from the line forming out the door and onto the street, it was certainly popular.
“Have you ever had one?” she asked Baird who had assigned himself the job of carrying packages once she’d begun to make purchases.
“I have, but not here. Mrs. Johnson makes an excellent Bakewell tart, and I’ve only had hers.”
Baird had used his phone to look up clothing stores in Bakewell, and they went from one to another with Ella popping inside each store to see if they had carried cardigans or women’s shawls. There were some lovely woven goods in the second, but nothing like the items on Cara’s shopping list. Ella left the shop and went outside to where Baird was waiting for her, leaning against the building, his big shoulder resting on weathered stone. In his vintage leather coat, and dark navy plaid scarf carelessly tied around his throat, he was drawing admiring looks from women walking by. She didn’t blame them. She was rather smitten, too.
“Well?” he asked, straightening.
She shook her head. “Nothing. They did have a pretty cardigan in a lovely pink color, but I don’t think that’s what Cara is wanting. I think we have to keep looking.”
“There are two more shops on the other side of town. We’ll go there now and if we can’t find what you need, we’ll head to the next town. It you don’t mind a drive, we could always just go straight to Sheffield. They’ve have everything there. It’s a proper city.”
“You mean a big city?”
“Half a million, so not big by American standards.”
