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He stepped back farther. "You need to rest. The next few days won't be easy for you, and I don't want to complicate that. But there's no forcing me out of here, there's no running from me any longer. We will see this through together."
Haley bit back her protests. She had been raised by her Scottish father and two older brothers, she knew male determination and arrogance, and if she wasn't mistaken, then Noble had more than his fair share of both.
As he left the bedroom, she slumped against the wall and breathed out wearily. Fear was like an animal trapped inside her, as was her grief. And like the desire she felt for Noble, she had no idea how to handle either emotion.
Noble stepped from the kitchen hours later, after Haley slipped silently through the house, like a wraith in her long white gown and robe, her soft red hair a fiery cloud around her pale face.
He watched as she moved to the huge Christmas tree and slowly, silently, collected two presents from beneath it and walked to the couch.
He was careful to stay within the shadows. He knew grief. Sometimes, a person had to be alone with it, and sometimes a woman needed to be alone with her tears.
She opened the first, which he knew must have been Patricia's. The finely made wrap was a blend of russets and dark golds. He remembered that Patricia liked darker colors.
Haley brought the wrap to her cheek, closed her eyes, and let her tears fall. They fell to the material as her shoulders shook, and she whispered her sorrow against it.
Long minutes lat
er, she smoothed the wrap over her lap and stared at the other, smaller present in front of het. Regret sliced across his chest. He wanted to go to her. He needed to hold her through her pain. Yet, a part of him sensed, knew, that for Haley to survive, she had to say good-bye in her own way.
She reached for the box and set it on her knee as she opened it slowly. She lifted the lid of the wide, black jeweler's box and stared at what she had revealed for long, silent moments.
"I'll miss you, Jason Lincoln," she whispered. "I'm sorry you never found out what freedom truly was."
Then she set the box on the table, pulled the wrap around her, and curled herself onto the cushions of the couch. She stared at that box as the tears whispered over her cheeks, and finally, just before dawn peeked over the horizon, Haley drifted into sleep.
Noble stepped farther into the room, moved to the table, and stared down at what she had bought Jason Lincoln. It was a bracelet. Hammered silver and engraved with a single word, freedom. Beside the word was a lion's paw print.
She'd known Jason wanted a Christmas present. He wondered if she knew that the women of Sanctuary made certain every breed had a Christmas present at Christmas whether they wanted one or not, whether they believed in the holiday or not.
He bent his knees, resting on the pads of his feet as he stared at the present and at the woman. The wrap she had bought Patricia was snug around her shoulders, and the tracks of her tears still dampened her cheeks.
He would give her her time to grieve because he knew she needed it. If he allowed that to be stolen from her, she would never walk into his arms as he needed her to. And he needed her to do that. To come to him. To need him. To ache as he ached and to want as he wanted.
Shaking his head he straightened, drew the light blanket from the back of the couch, and spread it over her before moving to the chair beside her.
He needed a few hours to doze himself. He would catch sleep as he could, and as a breed, he would adapt until they caught the person who had wounded her so deeply. And when they caught him, Noble promised himself, he would exact vengeance for her.
Three days later, they laid Patricia to rest next to her husband and the daughter who had gone before her. Noble stood behind Haley through the service and the burial, and as her pain overwhelmed his senses, he pulled her against his chest.
Her tears soaked into his shirt, branded his flesh, and broke his heart. He rubbed his cheek against the top of her hair, and across the small area his gaze met that of the sheriff's. Noble's eyes narrowed at the flash of jealousy in the sheriff's gaze and the anger when he looked at Noble.
There was more than friendship in that sheriff's eyes when he stared at Haley. And perhaps hatred when he looked at Noble.
Later, as they attended the small service held at Sanctuary for Jason, Noble found himself frowning. The priest who presided over the funeral was compassionate, he didn't judge, and he spoke of Jason's love for books and his abiding need for freedom. The priest assured them, Jason was free now.
As they approached the casket, Noble watched as Haley slipped the silver bracelet in beside the young breed, and his heart clenched.
Until Sanctuary, breeds had never had a burial. They were incinerated, turned to dust and ashes and, in the minds of their creators, forgotten.
This ritual that nonbreeds practiced made little sense to him, just as the ritual of Christmas still confused him. Breeds participating in either ritual almost seemed against the laws of nature to him. They weren't human. They hadn't been born, and the God that sanctioned the lives of others hadn't sanctioned the lives of breeds.
If their lives hadn't been sanctioned, could they still claim His benevolence?
Noble shook his head and followed Haley as she left the small chapel. He kept his arm around her, kept her to his chest as his team surrounded her and led her back to the black SUV limo that would return her to the warmth of the home she had made for herself.
Her grief was easing, but he had felt her determination rising. She had been quiet the past few days, but something was strengthening inside her. He could sense it. He could feel it. And the animal part of him stretched in anticipation.
"We need groceries," Haley stated later, as they neared the outskirts of Buffalo Gap.
