The Noel Bridge

Chapter 2

Chapter Two

H aving caught the last flight out the next day, Alicia pressed her shoulder bag to her hip to fit down the narrow aisle of the plane without knocking into anyone. She passed a family, the two parents giggling over photos on one of their teenager’s phones before the announcement to put the device in airplane mode. A few seats down, a father helped his young daughter get her seat belt clipped while she questioned him about the plane in rapid fire. A few people had already settled in, eyes closed, heads back.

Once Alicia found her spot, she inwardly squirmed when she had to ask an elderly woman, with a bag full of wrapped Christmas presents jammed under the seat in front of her, to get up so she could access the middle spot. A line of passengers formed behind Alicia as she waited for the woman to hoist herself up. When she finally succeeded, Alicia quickly took her seat and deposited her shoulder bag on the floor. She put her arm on the arm rest but then decided against it, wedged as she was between the old woman and a man by the window with his laptop open .

“The journey could be a little choppy, folks,” the pilot said after they were in the air. “We’ll be passing through a winter storm as we make our way into Georgia. Please keep those seat belts fastened.”

The man beside her opened his laptop and connected to Wi-Fi, sending emails the minute they were told they could use their devices. Alicia wriggled her shoulders and tried to relax. But a tiny pulsing sensation had taken over above each of her eyes; she was parched, and having left her house at dinnertime, she hadn’t really eaten, and the airport snacks of a cheese stick and packet of chips she’d downed on the way to the plane were fading quickly.

“Despite the weather, we’re expecting a quick flight before we touch down in Atlanta. Enjoy the trip and happy holidays.”

Alicia attempted to peer past the man’s laptop perched on the tray to see through the window, but all she could make out was a solid blanket of velvety black, so she tipped her head against the seat and closed her tired eyes. Having caught the last flight out on a Monday night, the late time coupled with the altitude was doing a number on her head. As the plane cruised at 25,000 feet, she tuned in to the shush of the cabin air system and tried not to think about how easily she’d been able to leave her condo in Savannah.

There’d been no one in town to say goodbye to, no one at work to catch up on how to do her job while she was gone—Katy had already assigned her patients to another nurse—and there certainly wasn’t anyone at home. Just for the sake of telling someone, she’d texted her parents and informed them she’d decided to go to Noel. Her mother had asked if she was going to stay with her old best friend. And Alicia had told her mom she was planning to see Evelyn, just to make the trip seem more normal. She hadn’t actually planned to do anything special besides visit the bridge, and she hadn’t called a single person to tell them she was coming—not even Evelyn. But she dared not disclose the foolish truth that she was going so she could speak to Bo. No one in their right mind would do something like that.

Alicia figured she’d let fate decide. If she was being ridiculous, maybe some cosmic force would stop her. Instead, she’d secured the last room at Fairlane House, one of only two bed-and-breakfasts just outside Noel. They’d had a last-minute vacancy. She couldn’t believe it—especially during the holidays. She’d booked it right away, sinking more money into the two-night reservation than she really had available to spend. She’d never been to the bed-and-breakfast before and had no idea what amenities it offered. She hadn’t bothered to view them because, truth be told, her options were limited. Besides, it didn’t really matter anyway. She was only going for the bridge. She could sleep anywhere.

The flight attendants came down the aisle taking drink orders. Alicia declined and drifted off, trying to avoid her loneliness, if only for two hours and forty-five minutes.

The plane touched down in Knoxville, and Alicia quickly retrieved her rental car—a black Chevy Tahoe, an SUV bigger than anything she’d ever driven. The flight had been rocky due to the weather, but she was now an hour and six minutes into the hour-and-forty-minute drive through the Smoky Mountains of Tennessee. The SUV hugged the winding, icy roads while Alicia gripped the wheel tightly with both hands, feeling as if the vehicle straddled both lanes .

On this tiny road, she had no idea what she’d do if she met an oncoming car. Snow was bearing down with surprising force, piling up on the edge of her windshield, her wipers ineffective against the deluge. The radio went in and out, Christmas music fading to static noise then returning at unpredictable intervals. The rugged terrain required all her attention, so Alicia reached over and cut off the radio.

While on a brief straightaway, she turned up the heat, her low-country attire no match for the freezing temperatures a snowstorm could bring in this part of Tennessee. In her years away, she’d forgotten how cold it could be in the winters at this elevation. She’d thought she packed enough, but she hadn’t planned properly at all for this amount of snow. And she definitely hadn’t been prepared to drive in it. When she was sixteen, her father never allowed her to get behind the wheel in these conditions, and after they moved to Beaufort, there was barely ever ice on the roads, so this was a new experience entirely. Even with the yellow beams of her headlights cutting through the gray air, she could barely discern where the road actually was, apart from the steep slope up the mountain on one side and the extreme drop-off on the other.

By the time she finished the last forty minutes of the drive, her shoulders and back ached from the tension of her rigid posture. Her two suitcases slid across the back seat with the final turn, the sudden movement making her jumpy. Amid the haze of snow was the insignificant wooden sign that read Welcome to Noel in dark green letters. She slowed almost to a stop just after it and put her blinker on to turn left where the bridge stood about a mile down the road. She hesitated, staring straight ahead, indecision creeping in. What if she’d flown all this way and couldn’t hear Bo? The reality settled in that he was gone, along with a certainty that she wouldn’t hear him under some covered bridge in the middle of nowhere, and tears pricked her eyes. But then her mother’s voice floated into her mind: “ God can work miracles anytime He wants to.”

Alicia had to commit if this little excursion was going to work. She couldn’t go in with any doubt whatsoever. This was her only chance, and she had to give it everything she had—for Bo. Maybe he was waiting on the other side, eager to impart a few final words.

But after the late flight and treacherous drive, she was exhausted, and decided she should be better rested and prepared for the bridge and whatever awaited her there. Abruptly aware of the rumble in her stomach, she turned off her blinker and drove straight into town, hoping something was still open at eight thirty so she could grab a bite to eat.

The dark roads gave way to glittering holiday lights in the trees, and more strung between the two sides of Main Street, making Noel look like a wonderland in the snow. The wrought-iron streetlamps were adorned with bright red bows, and all the shops donned holiday wreaths and festive displays. A twinge of nostalgia took hold, and she remembered exactly why she’d wanted so badly to stay. She pushed the unanswered request out of her mind, not wanting to consider the potential ineffectiveness of the bridge’s magic. Instead, she focused on how much her little town had changed in nine years. The old pharmacy was now a pet store, and the vacant storefront on the corner must have been bought by someone because it was now an ice cream shop.

The lone blinking sign at the end of the dark road grabbed her attention. The old diner had also been redone, and the “open” light was gleaming in the window. She pulled the SUV to a stop along the curb a few stores down. Using the rearview mirror, she wiped her fingers under her eyes to remove any wayward mascara and then fluffed her hair. She grabbed her handbag, opened the door, and hopped down to the frigid street. She tightened her coat in a poor attempt to keep out the cold as snow fell delicately.

Over the months since Bo had died, she’d built up a ritual anytime she was out on her own, for everyone else’s benefit. She found out very quickly that if she went into a restaurant showing exactly how she was feeling inside as she ate alone, she got quite a few stares. One woman had sent a piece of cake over to her once with a message that said, “I’m not sure what you’re going through, but maybe this will help.” So Alicia had started walking in places with a forced smile, making small talk with the hostess, and then, once seated, she pulled a novel from her handbag and stared at it, pretending to be interested. Sometimes she actually read the book—on the days her grief would allow the printed words to reach her brain—but most of the time, she gazed at the ink on the page, her mind consumed with how different her life had ended up. She’d made sure to bring a book for this trip.

She worked up the polite smile she’d gotten so good at, squared her shoulders, and then stepped up to the diner’s entrance. But just as she’d made it to the door, the open sign shut off, followed by the overhead light, plunging her into darkness.

She reached for the handle and pulled, but it was locked. One by one, the lights farther inside turned off. Her fabricated smile slid away. She stood there, trying to figure out where she’d get dinner now that the last place open in town seemed to be closed. She doubted very seriously Fairlane House would offer food by the time she arrived, since it was still a good thirty-minute drive out of town.

Then, she realized a dark figure was moving through the diner, heading toward her, catching her off guard. The figure was about Bo’s size, his arms swinging slightly as he walked, just as Bo’s had.

Every nerve in her body shot into action, her skin prickling with anticipation while the figure made its way toward her as if coming to see her specifically. Was she still asleep on the plane and this was some sort of dream? Or had Bo heard her pleading for him to come back before she’d even reached the bridge?

She forced her vision to fill in the gaps in his form through the darkness, nearly sure by his movements, that it was, in fact, her fiancé. She couldn’t believe her eyes.

“Bo?” she whispered into the darkness, her heart aching to see him emerge through the door, that smile on his face as if he’d only been out of town these past months. Please give me my miracle .

Her heart slammed. She wiped the snow from her lashes, desperate to see him clearly.

When he got closer to the door, she blinked a few times as her heart caught up with her mind. The figure was someone else. Her breath caught as she tried to force the disappointment away and have one more second in that magical moment when she’d thought it was Bo.

The first thing she noticed as the man stepped into the light from the bulb that had popped back on above her were his blue eyes—definitely not Bo’s hazel. He was also older than her fiancé—maybe thirty. His hair was dark brown, styled a bit shorter than Bo’s, his jawline slightly stronger, and, upon closer inspection, his build was a little broader. Holding a box with the diner’s logo, the man turned the lock and opened the door.

“Hey,” he said, his attention flitting past her to the street. “We’re closed.”

The savory scent of whatever was in the box—a cheeseburger?—caused her stomach to rumble, but she barely felt it, her disillusionment overtaking the sensation. She nodded, unable to form words.

“Sorry. I was just here finishing some work, and I forgot to turn off the sign. We closed at eight.”

His gaze had moved back to her, and she knew by the way his face softened that he could sense her grief and exhaustion. She tried to push the fake smile onto her lips.

“Okay,” she said, attempting and failing to keep her voice even.

From memory, the closest grocery store was half an hour out of town—in a different direction to the bed-and-breakfast—her head was pounding, and her fiancé had just evaporated in front of her. It was everything she could do not to break down in front of this man.

“Come back tomorrow?” he asked, but what sounded like uncertainty saturated the question, making her look up at him. “You’re not from here, are you?”

She shook her head. The complexity of the answer made her stammer when she started to explain, so she just trailed off. She didn’t have it in her tonight to hold a regular conversation.

He cleared his throat and fixated on the street behind her, clearly distracted. Then with a small shake of his head, he turned his attention back to her.

“I’m Leo Whitaker.” He held out his hand .

She shook it, noting his warm grasp. “Alicia Silver.”

“You’re freezing,” he said, still clutching her hand. “I have a second if you want to come inside and warm up.” He opened the door wider, allowing her entrance into the empty diner.

Had anyone else offered to take her into a dark, locked diner on a deserted street, she would have kicked him where it counted and dashed back to her car. But there was a gentle kindness in his suggestion, and she was just tired enough not to overthink it. She stepped inside, and Leo gestured to a table before turning on the lights over the hostess stand.

She took a seat. The salty scent from his box made her stomach growl again, loud enough to get his attention.

“The grill’s off, but I made myself some dinner to take home.” He came over to the table, set down the box, and pushed it toward her. “I’m not that hungry, so you’re welcome to it.”

“Oh, I couldn’t,” she lied through her teeth. She wouldn’t admit that she could devour the entire box in less than a minute if she let herself.

“It’s fine.”

She shook her head. “I can’t eat your dinner.”

He peered out the window at the street once more and his shoulders fell. Then he held up a finger and went through the swinging double doors into the kitchen. Through the oval windows at the top of each door, the lights turned on then went back off. Leo returned to the table with two wrapped silverware bundles.

“We’ll split it.” He pulled out the chair across from her and sat. Then he unwrapped his silverware and opened the box, uncovering a pile of fries next to a toasted bun atop a fully loaded cheddar burger with lettuce, tomato, and onion peeking out the edges.

Alicia’s mouth watered.

Leo stabbed the burger with his fork and dragged the knife through it. He slid one half and a few fries over to her side of the box.

“So if you’re not from here, where are you from?”

She unrolled the paper napkin from her silverware. “I’m originally from here, but I moved away when I was sixteen. Now I live in Georgia.”

He pursed his lips, appearing interested. How could she be interesting in the slightest? She was a shell of her former self.

“What about you? I don’t remember you in school,” Alicia said.

“I moved here from Chicago with my dad a little over a year ago. We wanted to relocate to a smaller town, and he asked to live in the mountains, so we searched online until we discovered Noel.” His gaze shifted out the window and he looked at his watch, not saying anything more. He seemed to be in a rush.

They fell into silence.

Over the last few months, she’d gotten skilled at deciphering thoughts that lurked behind a pleasant expression. When Bo first passed, she searched the eyes of strangers walking by, hoping to see someone else who understood the storm raging within her. After a while, she’d settled into that storm, still taking the beating every single day, but no longer panicked by it. While she didn’t look for it in others anymore, she could still spot the look occasionally.

Alicia picked up her burger and eyed the book peeking out of her handbag, feeling awkward sitting across from another person, neither of them evidently wanting to be there. Her head still pounded; she just wanted to eat in peace. She took a bite despite her perplexing company. The sharp cheddar and salty burger melted in her mouth, fueling her drained body. She hadn’t tasted anything quite this good in a very long time. To her relief, Leo seemed just as pensive as she was, eating his half of the burger without a word.

When she stole a glance at him, he seemed preoccupied, there was an edge to his posture, as if he wanted to spring from his seat and run out of the diner. He hadn’t taken his coat off either. At least he wasn’t planning on staying for any length of time, which she was thankful for. Concerned that he needed to be somewhere other than there sitting with her, she ate as quickly as she could without giving herself a stomachache. It would be better to finish faster, anyway, so she could get to Fairlane House and check in.

When they’d both finished, their eyes met. He offered a little smile. While she tried to figure out his response, he got up and cleared their places, taking the container into the kitchen to throw it away. The upward curve of his lips lingered in her mind. It had been a long time since someone had looked at her like that.

She stood, pushed her chair under the table, and slid her handbag onto her shoulder. While she was still uncomfortable with other people, she was thankful she’d run into Leo tonight. Ten minutes later and she’d have been out of a meal. But her relief was for more than the food. He’d clearly needed to be somewhere else, yet he’d stayed. And he seemed okay with her silence, which made her feel slightly normal, if that were possible.

When he returned, he asked, “Where are you parked?”

She pointed toward the Tahoe. “Just down the street. ”

Leo led her to the door, let her walk out first, and locked up. “Mine’s right in front of yours.” He nodded to the Land Rover parked ahead of her rental.

As snow fell from the black sky, fluttering past the streetlamps lining the sidewalk, they walked toward the vehicles. She hadn’t walked next to someone—together—in a long time.

“Thanks for dinner,” she said just as they split to get into their vehicles.

“No problem.”

Leo got into his SUV and shut the door. The engine started, the red taillights turning the snow on the hood of her vehicle crimson. Without allowing his engine to warm up, he pulled onto Main Street, heading toward a rural region, away from the residential area in town. Where was he going in such a hurry? She shook off the curiosity and started her SUV. She didn’t need to fill her mind with anything else. She had enough to manage in her life.

As she made the thirty-minute drive out of town, the eerily dark, empty roads plunged Alicia into her inner self. That was the problem with being alone—she had nowhere to go but inside her own head. Which was a problem because there were no distractions to keep her from the one question that surfaced over and over: what had she ever done to deserve losing everything?

Her mother had taught her that everyone was put on earth for a purpose, and that purpose was woven into the fabric of their lives. Was she missing something in the big picture of her existence? Since Bo died, she’d been wandering aimlessly with no clue what was meant for her. Bo would know. Was he actually there with her, and she wasn’t alone at all? She sharpened her hearing, but the only sound was the quiet shush of her tires against the wet snow.

Wanting to believe in miracles, she contemplated what it would be like to hear Bo’s voice again. She conjured the tingle that had spread down her limbs whenever he whispered in her ear and the strength in his arms when they had tightened around her in an embrace that always made her feel as if nothing could harm her. A lump formed in her throat and a tear escaped down her cheek. What good would hearing him do?

It didn’t matter. Her selfish emotional side wanted to hear him, even though she knew the pain it would cause her. Maybe—just maybe—if he could get through to her, he could tell her what to do now.

Alicia was still wrestling with herself when she pulled up to Fairlane House and parked out front. She got out of the vehicle, pulled her suitcase from the back, then slipped and nearly fell as she hauled her bags up the steps.

Once she and her bags were safely on the front porch, she turned the doorknob, but it seemed to be frozen shut. She wiggled it again, but the door wouldn’t budge. Putting her cold hands on her hips, she looked around for a doorbell, but there wasn’t one, so she tried the knob again. Unable to get in, she knocked loudly, her frustration with the situation and her choices mounting. When no one came, she was nearly certain the bridge’s miracle was that she’d freeze to death and finally get to see Bo in person on the other side. A part of her would welcome that.

Finally, the door opened, and Clyde Fairlane stood in front of her. “Well, hello!”

“Sorry, I couldn’t get the door,” she said, trying not to sound as flustered as she was.

With a grin, he pointed to the small sign next to the door frame that said, Please use side door .

Before she could respond, he threw a weathered hand to his plaid flannel-covered chest. “I wondered if it was actually you when I saw your name on the reservation.” He grabbed her bags and pulled them inside. “How are your parents?”

“They’re good,” she said, stepping in.

He quickly closed the door behind her.

She remembered Mr. Fairlane from childhood. He’d been active in the town council and had enjoyed walking down Main Street, shaking people’s hands and waving to passersby. His single mission was to get to know everyone in Noel because—and these were his words —“If we all get to know each other, it’s hard to get upset with an old friend. Our town will be better for it.”

“Sorry I got the wrong door.” Alicia shivered in the lingering cold in the front entryway.

“It’s no problem at all.” Mr. Fairlane led her to the empty sitting room of the old Victorian house. A fire crackled in the fireplace under a mantle decorated with pine and holly.

“It’s quiet,” she noted, relieved.

“Ah, it isn’t usually. In fact, it’s been downright chaotic lately. We’re booked solid because of the reports about the bridge.”

Only then did she notice the fatigue that came with a busy day that had settled under his eyes.

“It’s only quiet due to the late hour,” he continued. “The guests have all gone up to their rooms.”

Alicia was fine with quiet.

“Mildred’s turned in for the night, but I’m gonna stay up for another hour or so in case anyone comes back down for a nightcap. Can I get ya anything? A cup of tea or coffee? Hot cocoa?”

“No, thank you. I’m exhausted from my flight, so I’ll be the easiest guest ever tonight. All I need is a warm bed.”

“Well, that I can certainly do.” He flashed her a smile, his bushy gray eyebrows lifting. He picked up her bags, holding one in each hand. “Follow me upstairs, and I’ll show you to your room.”

The old steps creaked under Alicia as she planted each foot on the runner that led up the wooden staircase and followed Mr. Fairlane. At the top, they turned the corner of the narrow hallway before they stopped outside her room. Mr. Fairlane inserted a key into the lock, opened the door, and set her bags inside.

Alicia entered the cozy space. A fire was already going in the hearth across from a bed covered with a fluffy comforter and oversized pillows. A small Christmas tree twinkled in the corner.

“This is perfect. Thank you.”

Mr. Fairlane handed her the key. “Mildred starts breakfast at seven, but I’m sure she’d like to say hello and catch up before that if you’re awake. She’s usually downstairs by six.”

Alicia produced a smile for his benefit. “All right.”

The man waggled a finger toward the fire. “You can use the wood stacked on the hearth. If you need any more, just call downstairs in the morning. The heat’s pretty good, though, so if you get hot, just let it die down. We can start it for you again anytime.”

“Okay.”

“It’s good to see you.”

She smiled again, her eyes stinging from fatigue.

“Well, good night,” said Mr. Fairlane .

“Good night.”

When Mr. Fairlane shut the door, Alicia fell onto the soft bedding and closed her eyes. Her mind didn’t have time to ruminate on anything else. She lost consciousness almost immediately, grateful for one of the few nights when sleep overtook her before her thoughts had time to consume her.