Page 21 of His Christmas Star
“I would say, I know that. What’s your point?”
“My point is, I could shuttle people from the parking lot to the dance. That way, you can park people at Heavenly Lane and Bison Ridge.”
“The sleigh can’t hold that many people, right?”
“True,” I agreed, tapping my chin. “But the hay wagon can hold a lot of people. A few bales of hay to sit on and one of the tractors hooked up, and we’d be in business. We could ferry people to the barn in large groups, drop them off, and return for the next group. It keeps them from walking on the road, especially with little kids, and gets everyone there faster.”
“But you have to drive the sleigh.”
“I do, but not until everyone is there and settled. While everyone checks out the dance, I’ll abandon the tractor and fire up the sleigh. When the dance is done, I’ll switch back to the wagon.”
“Sounds like a lot of work for you. I like the idea, but we should ask one of the other ranch hands to ferry. You’ll be busy enough already, and it would be nice if you got to enjoy some of the dance.”
“I couldn’t care less about the dance, Joe.” I walked past him to the barn door and shut off the lights, then motioned for him to follow me out of the barn. Once out, I slid the barn door closed and turned to him. “I’m more of a behind-the-scenes kind of person, especially since Caleb and Cece are getting married.
“They’re going to get married at the dance?” he asked in surprise. After a beat, he shrugged. “I can see the draw. Especially since everyone will already be there.”
“Right,” I agreed as we walked toward Bison Ridge Ranch. “And, as far as Caleb is concerned, the sooner, the better.”
“Why is he so anxious to get married? Wouldn’t spring or summer make a wedding easier to plan and participate in?”
“Logistically speaking, sure, but he can’t relax until he can officially adopt Poppy Rose. Until then, if something happened to Cece on the ranch, social services could take Poppy away from him. That would literally kill him, and probably Poppy Rose too.”
“I get it, Tobi. You can stop.”
“Get what? You asked why Caleb was anxious to get married and I told you. I can’t help if his truth hits too close to your own, Nash.”
He was silent for several steps before he sighed. “That’s fair, but I still think you should be able to enjoy the dance. Especially if your friends are getting married.”
“You can think whatever you’d like, Joe.”
His sarcastic snort was code for ‘same old Tobi.’
The snow fell gently in the dark, silent air, and all you heard was the crunch of our boots on the snow-covered asphalt. It was strangely peaceful to be out here alone together. Joe slipped his hand into mine, and I glanced down and back to him. “What are you doing?”
“Holding your hand.”
“Why?”
“I want to.” His answer was simple and precise. He also didn’t let go of my hand, so I let it ride.
Why did he want to hold my hand? Who wanted to hold a hand like mine? When we were kids, he’d play fake disgust when I’d pull my hands from my pockets. He’d gasp, throw his hands to his face, and then run with his arms in the air, a shriek of terror following his path. Everyone laughed when he did it. Well, everyone but me. I suppose that was why I kept my hands in my pockets when I wasn’t using them. If no one could see them, no one could be scared of them.
Sure, with age and maturity, I learned that people weren’t afraid of my hands. Some people were curious—kids especially. My hands opened a conversation with kids to talk about disabilities. They were vastly different than their own hands, and that intrigued kids. Adults, on the other hand, were uncomfortable most of the time. Not here, though. They’d accepted me the moment I walked onto the property, but that wasn’t anything unusual at Heavenly Lane or Bison Ridge. We were an eclectic ragtag family, but we worked magic together. In the end, that’s all that mattered to me. I could make a difference in Wellspring to make up for the pain my family caused others. Sometimes, I wished it wasn’t always at my expense, but the only way to solve that was to leave this place, and that wasn’t happening. Heavenly Lane was my home now and always would be.
“It’s a beautiful night,” I said, hoping he’d join in the conversation rather than stare straight ahead with a look of deep reflection on his handsome face. He wore his hat, of course, but his side profile tonight wasn’t that of a sleep-deprived small-town sheriff. Tonight, he was a man who’d had his world turned upside down by the man he thought was his family, and by the woman who accused him of destroying hers.
My heart ached, and I had to curl my shoulders to ease the pain. I was responsible for hurting him. I was responsible for taking my pain, anger, and grief out on him when he was hurting too.
I pulled up on his hand when we reached the driveway to Bison Ridge. “Listen, Joe. I’m terribly, terribly sorry for all the years you shouldered my pain about what happened to Cody.”
He shook his head, but his jaw ticked, telling me he was upset. “I told you, I understood that you needed someone to blame.”
“Maybe, but that doesn’t make it right, Joe. Cody would hate what I’ve done to you for the last decade in his name.”
“You were a kid who just lost the last person who made her feel safe, Tobi. I was old enough to understand that, but it was Alfred who explained grief and loss to me in a way that made sense. He said grief is walking down a long, dark road alone. You’re scared, sad, bitter, and in denial, so you stop every so often to shed your pain onto someone else. No one’s walk on that long, dark path is the same in time, distance, pain, or healing.”
“God, he’s so right,” I whispered, dropping my chin to my chest. “That’s exactly how those early days felt to me.”
