A clomp-clomp as he kicks snow from his boots. Then he walks into the parlor and deposits me on the sofa, amidst a nest of piled blankets. Across the room, a fire blazes. A tantalizing odor makes my mouth water, and he disappears into the kitchen, only to return with a basket of warm scones.
“Freya’s?” I say.
“Of course. You didn’t think she’d let you arrive without sending up a bushel basket of scones. That’s the appetizer. Mrs. Shaw left a cold supper on the other side. We’ll cross over when you’re ready.”
A cold supper isn’t . . . quite what I’d hoped for. Especially not one served in a nineteenth-century house on a midwinter night. I’d rather stay here and pop something into the microwave oven, enjoy my late dinner with central heating and electric lighting.
Really, Bronwyn? Really? Mrs. Shaw made dinner for you. Freya made these scones for you. William got this fire going for you and came out to meet you with blankets. And you’re complaining?
No, the truth is just that I’m disappointed by the lack of, well . . . My gaze slides around the room, which looks exactly as I left it after October’s Thanksgiving break.
I’m disappointed by the lack of Christmas. Which is equally shameful. I know William hasn’t celebrated the holidays in years. Did I expect him to ready the house for me? He’s waiting so we can decorate it together. It’s hardly Christmas eve. There’s plenty of time.
I’m just tired. Tired and overwhelmed with the emotion of being back here and seeing him and our house. I missed them both so much.
Which reminds me . . .
I sit up as he takes a scone from the basket. “Where’s Enigma?”
I’d left my kitten here, with William and her mother, Pandora. Taking the little calico to Canada wouldn’t have been fair. This is her home. Yet she can pass through the time stitch, so I’d expected her to be waiting for me.
“She’s off doing kitten things,” he says. “On the other side. Endless mischief, that one. I think I might have spotted her this morning . . .”
Not disappointed. I am not disappointed.
“Give me a few moments to fetch your bags and stable Xanthus. Then we’ll cross over.”
He kisses my forehead and then holds a warm scone to my lips. I smile and take it. As I nibble a toasted edge, he heads for the door. Then he turns and glances back, his lips twitching in a smile.
“Any gifts for me in your bags?” he asks. “Best to warn me, so I don’t accidentally peek.”
“You mean so you know whether there’s any point in peeking.”
His brows arch. “That would be wrong.”
“No, William, there are no gifts for you in my bags.” I take a bite of the scone, drawing out the moment. “I had them shipped to Del and Freya’s. Pre-wrapped. And very well taped.”
“One would think you don’t trust me around them.”
“One would be correct.”
He shakes his head. Then, at the door, he pauses and looks back at me. “You never did tell me what you want for Christmas. You’ll need to do so post-haste, or you’ll wake up to a very sad holiday morning.”
So he hasn’t bought me any gifts yet. He’s waiting to hear what I want . . . when I spent days wandering through wretched shopping malls picking out exactly the right things for him, without so much as a hint about what he’d want.
Not disappointed. I am not disappointed.
The door closes, and I slump into the blankets and sigh.
It’s fine. Really, it’s fine. There are many inconsiderate people in the world, but William isn’t one of them. This is all just new to him.
The man has spent the last decade living alone in the moors, avoiding all but locals and close friends, his family gone, his life shadowed by scandal and rumor. Now, in the space of a half-year, he finds himself married and a father-to-be . . . and living part-time in a world he can barely fathom, a world filled with endless challenges.
It’s a wonder he crossed over to meet me at all. In his place, most people would hide in their own century, popping over only long enough to leave a note saying “Meet me on the other side.” He not only waited here but found a way to surprise me with a flight upgrade and hired car. And I’m disappointed by the lack of a Christmas tree and presents?