Page 6 of His Christmas Star
“Beau tans the leather to make it supple but durable,” Dawn explained. “You should talk to him about making you a few different pairs for different jobs. I know you have the ones you make—”
“I do, but they don’t come to the end of the split in my palm,” I said, tapping the leather into the crevice with my other hand. “That matters because half of my mobility without a thumb comes from the splits in my palms.”
Dawn motioned at the gloves. “That’s why he made them that way, but he didn’t have dimensions, so all he could do was use one of your old pairs as a guide. If you get together with him, I know he can devise some that offer better protection where you need it.”
I nodded without making eye contact. Beau used the hides from the bison at Bison Ridge to make adaptive saddles for people with disabilities. He funds that project by making and selling bison leather hats, dusters, and gloves. He was currently making the saddles we’d need for the therapy school. “He has a lot on his plate, and I hate to add more,” I whispered. “But I will find him and thank him for these. They’re going to save me a lot of headaches this winter.”
“And hand aches,” Amity said, bringing a smile to my lips.
“And hand aches.”
“Forgive me, but I’m new here,” Amity said. “Why are your hands that way? Was it an accident?”
I shook my head as I pulled the gloves off. “It’s called split hand or foot malformation. There are varying degrees of it. Some people only have one hand with a split, and some have both. It’s the same with the feet.” I swallowed nervously but kept going. “Some people are born without a tibia, and others have lobster claw hands, as the medical field refers to them, and are also deaf.”
“So it’s hereditary?” she asked, and I nodded.
“Yes, but it’s a rare malformation. That said, if the moon and the stars all line up correctly, you can have a child with it.”
“Did your siblings also have it?”
I shook my head and noticed Dawn and Heaven both grimace. “I only had one brother, my twin, but he didn’t have it. He was a carrier, though. As a female with the malformation, I can’t give it to my kids.” I chuckled and held up my hands. “Not that I’ll ever have kids with this disaster going on.”
“Why?” Amity asked with her head cocked. “You do more around here than half of the other ranch hands. Why would they stop you from having kids?”
I opened and closed them a few times to prove my point. “Know any men interested in dating this?”
“First of all, men aren’t dating your hands. They’re dating you,” Heaven said immediately. “Second, yes. Nash.”
I rolled my eyes and added a huff for good measure. “Nash,” I spat as though the very word was distasteful. “You’re right, I love him. Love to hate him!”
Heaven snickered. She knew she’d get a rise out of me, and she got it. “Sure, keep telling yourself that, Tobi,” she said with a headshake.
“Are we done here then? I need to ride into town and get some supplies.” I was done with coffee klatch and ready to be alone.
After everyone glanced at each other and nodded, Heaven spoke. “I think we all have enough to work on for a few days.”
I stood and walked to the door after kissing Eden on the cheek. “If you see Beau before I do, please let him know how much I appreciate the gloves,” I said to Dawn. “I’ll thank him when I see him.”
“Will do,” she agreed while I shrugged on my coat.
I stepped outside and was never happier to suck up a lungful of cold Wisconsin air than I was this morning. With a deep breath in and another one out, puffing frosty white steam into the air, I headed for my cabin. I had somewhere to go and a ghost to see.
Chapter Three
The Wise Anchor Bar was nearly empty at two p.m. when I slid my butt over a stool and ordered a beer. Alexandria, who declared herself the head bartender, slid a mug over to me. “Shift over?”
“For a few hours,” I agreed, taking a sip of the beer. “Truthfully, though, my shift is never over.”
She raised a glass to me and took a sip. “Amen. At least mine doesn’t involve car crashes and bad boys doing bad things.”
I chuckled and pointed at her. “I know for a fact you deal with bad boys all the time, Allie. That’s why you don’t have to call me half as much as the other bartenders do.”
“I keep telling them if they show weakness, they’ll never win against a rowdy bar crowd, but no one listens to me.”
“I think it’s just because they’re afraid to vault over the bar and stand between the bad boys the way you do.”
“Well, not everyone can be awesome, Sheriff Nash,” she said on a shoulder shrug that had me laughing.
