Page 36 of His Christmas Star
I had done the paperwork for the therapy school for the better part of the day. After four hours of calling and talking to clients, I had one student booked every day for the first two weeks of January. It would be an excellent test run for the horses and the staff. We needed to start slowly to work out the kinks before spring arrived and our camps started up. I hadn’t been this excited about something since I started college.
After Cody died, I refused to deal with my grief, which made finding joy in life difficult. Some might say that wasn’t the healthy way to deal with my loss, and they’d most likely be correct, but for me, it worked. What I mean is, now that it’s twelve years later, and I’m finally dealing with the grief inwardly instead of projecting it on someone else, it’s easier than it would have been back then. Maybe it was time, maturity, or both, but now that I’d let my hatred toward Joe go, I could see a way forward. I could see a life without Cody and not have my mouth filled with the bitter taste of loss and regret.
Want you, Star. Have for twelve years.
I couldn’t stop thinking about those words he’d muttered against my lips two nights ago. Was it true, or was it the moment? I was still trying to answer that question. When we woke up the following day, I was still wrapped up in his arms. He’d climbed from my bed to wash up and get ready for the day but then came back and spent ten minutes kissing me before I took him to his truck. His reason? He wanted me to remember that what he’d said the night before was true. He wanted me, and he’d prove it.
Was it terrible that I wanted him to prove it?
If there was one thing that I was gifted with in this life, it was common sense. My grandma always said I had too much of it, used it too frequently, and missed out too much on life because of it. I disagreed with her, but I didn’t disrespect her by arguing. I wasn’t your typical child. I didn’t like cartoons or silly kid shows. I wanted books that transported me from my old barn to other worlds where I was a kid detective solving crimes or a wizard making spells. There was nothing ordinary about my childhood, but I could always rely on my common sense to guide me to the correct answer … until now. My common sense told me the exact opposite of what my heart, and Joe’s lips, told me. For the first time in my life, I wanted to ignore my common sense and throw caution to the wind. I just knew that wasn’t the smart thing for my heart.
I stuck my arms in my jacket and zipped it, tossing a cap on my head and grabbing my mitts from Beau. Now that it was December, the air was always cold, and the snow was already piling up. We would have a white Christmas, and the sleigh rides would be beautiful across the ridge. I could see it now, the burgundy sleigh gliding through the sparkling, glittering snow against the backdrop of the bison swaying their heads to forage food for the winter.
I shook my head as I walked toward the barn. When did I become a romance writer? Geez, get a grip, Tobi. I snickered to myself. I’d better leave the romance writing up to Debbie Macomber and stick to the horses. Besides, I hadn’t seen Joe since I’d dropped him at his truck two days ago, so chances were good he’d come to his senses about my life situation and set me firmly back into the friend zone. It was to be expected, and I wouldn’t be offended. I’d be sad, but I could also understand his side of things at the same time. Being with someone like me was filled with many unknowns, and it wasn’t fair to ask someone like Joe Nash, or anyone for that matter, to live with them. I understood it, but it still hurt.
The barn was empty when I arrived, which was unusual. If Caleb wasn’t in the barn, he was at his house, and I didn’t want to walk to the other side of the ranch. The blister on my foot was worse, and while I’d padded it, that didn’t seem to be helping. I grabbed a walkie off the hook and pressed down the button. “Caleb? Are you available?” Our cell service was often limited here, so we used the walkies to communicate.
“I’m waiting at the bus stop for Poppy,” he answered, and I sighed. I wasn’t walking to the bus stop either. “Do you need me?”
“No, I just had the paperwork ready for you to look over. We can talk about it once you’ve had a chance to read it.”
“Great. If you want to leave it on the table in the main house, I’m headed there next. We’ll have breakfast tomorrow to discuss it?”
“I’ll pencil you in after chores,” I said with a chuckle. “Say hello to Miss Poppy for me.”
“Will do.”
I hung the walkie up on the hook, walked the short distance to the house, and knocked on the back door. I hated to barge in just in case Dawn was putting the baby down for a nap.
“Come in!” a voice called, so I pushed it open and stepped inside.
Sitting at the table were four familiar faces. “Did I miss a meeting notice?” I asked, pulling my hat and mitts off.
Heaven shook her head. “No, we were just unexpectedly all in the same place at once.”
“Oh, okay, I won’t feel hurt then,” I teased, setting the paperwork down on the table. “This is for Caleb. He’ll pick them up after he gets Poppy Rose.”
“Thanks,” Cece said, pulling them over to her. “I’ll make sure he gets them. Do you want some coffee?”
“I would, but I need to start chores. Keep me posted on any updates, and I’ll be here for the meeting tomorrow.”
“Have you heard from Joe lately?” Amity asked, and I paused with my hand on the doorknob.
“He texted me this morning that he can pick up Daddy Nash at the funeral home this week. I’m going to encourage him to have a small ceremony if nothing else.”
“We’re here for anything he needs,” Heaven said, and I nodded.
“He knows.” I walked back to the table, resigning myself to staying for a few minutes. “He’s doing okay.”
“I’m sure he is,” Amity agreed. “He’s had a year or more to grieve. It was like a long, slow goodbye, but he knew it was coming and had already accepted that. Even though it was hard, he knows Alfred is in a better place.”
I pointed at her with a smile. “That. I assured Joe it was normal, and he didn’t have to feel guilty about going back to work or feeling relieved that Daddy Nash was no longer suffering.”
“Speaking of suffering,” Heaven said. “You’re limping. Did you hurt yourself?”
My inner cowgirl let out a string of cuss words for letting her guard down around Heaven. “No, just stubbed my toe,” I answered with a smile, but I doubted she’d buy it.
“Did you stub it so hard that you broke it or what?” Amity asked. “You’ve been limping for at least a week.”
