Isabel told Mr. Gold in passing over dinner one night that she could feel it when he entered the library. Even when she was upstairs reshelving ancient tomes on whales or one of the twenty copies of "Nights in Rodanthe" the library owned, the legacy of the book club, she could tell when he entered. It wasn't the sound of his foot steps or the tap of his cane on the well worn hardwood floors. She claimed that she could sense him and only him.
"That's ridiculous," Mr. Gold said before he could catch himself. He was much more careful about what he said to her now. His words had grown less guarded as they grew together again, but there was still a fear that he would say the absolute wrong thing and she would flee.
"That doesn't keep it from being true," she said then asked him to pass her the salt.
The library was on his way to work. It was a house that had been deeded to the town nearly a hundred years before by an old maid with a lot of money and the conviction that the town desperately needed a library. Now it was filled to the rafters with books. Some days he would close up the shop early then drive down to the library. Mr. Gold would wander through the stacks, looking at the library's wares while he waited for Isabel to close the library.
Until Isabel had been released, the library had only been open intermittently. There were a few volunteers who kept it open for a few hours on Sunday, but no one with what knowledge or energy to run a library that still utilized a card catalog. Even now the library's hours weren't set in stone. Isabel sketched them in chalk on a great slate that hung beside the front door, changing them from week to week as needed. Mr. Gold tried to convince her to keep the library closed and instead spend her time with him, but Isabel refused.
"You can't lock me away," she'd tell him as she wound her scarf around her neck, a final preparation for her walk to the library. "Even if you don't need other people, I do."
As much as he gravitated toward her, she was drawn to him just as much. It was the same force that had brought them together again after Sheriff Swan had broken Isabel out of the lock up. It had brought Isabel to work for Mr. Gold when there were others offering help with much kinder dispositions. It was this same force that alerted her when he drew near.
Being with someone who loved him was a novel experience. Moreover, it was frightening. He hadn't had any close friends in decades, let alone lovers. He had resigned himself to being completely alone. The absence of Isabel had only made him more hardened to those around him.
And now he had her. She was still recovering, yet they were making progress. He had been prepared for her to completely reject him, but she had not. With Isabel there was no shouting or crying or harsh words.
They had started with coffee at the diner once a week and worked from there. He had paid for her to stay in the B & B while she looked for somewhere to stay. It seemed too forward to ask her to come and live with him, though that was what he had really wished for.
Now she would come and lean over his shoulder as he read at one of the library's tables, to tuck his hair back behind his ears and snoop on just what he was reading. If he was even luckier, she would brush a kiss on his cheek before she pulled away. It felt somewhat as if it might be the bellweather of some intimacy between them brewing in the distance. Mr. Gold knew he would accept it when it arrived, regardless of the form it took.
If she wanted to trade only platonic affection with him, the same as with Sheriff Swan or Miss Blanchard, that would be just as well. If she wished to spend her days fighting back dust and chaos in the library she would never be able to control, he could devote a few hours a day to keeping her company there. Mr. Gold was careful to never push her away nor draw her toward him when that was not what she wished.