| |
Valerie felt like she was sitting in the clouds. Two nights ago, she and Damon had sat together and talked about their lives for most of the night—morning, really—sharing so much with each other. It had been beyond amazing to catch up on that level with him. He’d even given her another lingering kiss as they’d said goodbye. And to top off the goodness she was feeling, now she was bringing Martha home.
“Is that...” Martha squinted as they drove up the snowy driveway. “Valerie, is there a Santa on the roof of my barn?” Martha’s squint turned to a wide-eyed look of disbelief. She turned the gaze to Valerie, who shrugged.
“I deduced that your donkey doesn’t like Santa, since he pulverized the one in the house, so I put it up there to taunt him.” Maybe she shouldn’t have admitted that, but darn it, the donkey had made her spend the better part of an hour getting him from the house and back into his own space and locking him up to make sure he wouldn’t get loose again, then more time cleaning up the mess he’d made.
“Sir Charles is a donkey.” Martha’s gaze was still disbelieving, though her eyes were starting to crinkle with mirth. “You can’t have a feud with an innocent animal, Valerie.”
“He is not innocent. He’s the devil incarnate.” She parked the truck and tried to keep under wraps the smile that wanted to spread across her face. For whatever reason, she enjoyed giving the kooky woman a run for her money. Could being odd be passed down through genetics? She assumed so, so it shouldn’t be a shock to anyone that she’d inherited a strange sense of humor. It occurred to her that she’d never embraced anything about herself that was different from her colleagues and friends before, but now it felt good. Like she was fitting into her skin better. The thought disgruntled her, and she was thankful when Martha’s chuckle pulled her away from her musings.
“My girl, you fit here perfectly. But you’ll have to find a way to make a truce with Sir Charles eventually.”
“When one of us is dead. At this rate, if you’re taking bets, I think you might want to put money on Sir Charles winning.” She grinned and pushed the door open, hurrying around to open Martha’s door for her and help her out of the truck. After grabbing the cane from the back, she made sure Martha had it, though the woman scoffed when it was placed in her hand.
“As if I were some old person,” she grumbled, but despite her grousing, she did use it.
“Do you have some strength you can expend?” Valerie had been hesitant to ask, but she wanted to share the new addition to the farm with her aunt.
“Not if you need help shoveling manure,” Martha said dryly.
“It’s not that. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.” Valerie led the way, walking slowly so as to not make Martha feel overly tired, and helped her into the goat barn.
Once inside, it took Martha a moment to spot the baby goat, but when she did, she gave a gasp of delight. “Oh, how beautiful! You had your kid, Missy. Oh!” She cooed to the baby goat and rubbed his head when he hopped over. When she turned back to Valerie, she had a giant smile on her face. “This is a wonderful surprise. Thank you for showing me.”
The two left for the house shortly after, where more gasps came from Martha. “This is like walking into a Christmas wonderland! Valerie, what a detailed job.”
The word “detailed” concerned Valerie that perhaps she’d overdone it, but then Martha gave her a hug. “This is exquisite. It must have taken a lot of time. Thank you!”
For the next several minutes, Martha looked over the décor—red- and white tinsel twirling around the staircase railing, the shining bulbs and silver tinsel on the tree, little ceramic Christmas figurines in the middle of the table perched on a delicate white-lace doily, icicle lights hung outside the window, and all the other details that Valerie hoped she liked.
“You have a gift,” Martha said approvingly, settling onto the couch with Gus and gazing around with a smile.
“I don’t know about that. I just wanted you to come home to something beautiful. It will be Christmas in about a week now.”
“Come here,” Martha commanded.
Uncertainty washed over Valerie. What was this all about? But she walked over and sat on the edge of the couch next to Martha as requested.
Taking Valerie’s hand in her own, which to Valerie felt rather frail from the last time she’d been with her, Martha said, “You have no idea how much your presence has brought me joy. And now this”—she extended her arm to encompass the decorated house—“this is an incredible gift and I’m so thankful to you.” She choked on the last word, tears starting to gather in her eyes as she cleared her throat and looked away from Valerie. “I’m so thankful you’re here,” Martha said softly.
Valerie felt like she’d been hit by a truck. How could she have distanced herself from this woman all these years? She must have been out of her mind to group her with the rest of the family—including her parents—who she didn’t want to be like or even be around. Reaching forward, she wrapped her arms around Martha, for once seeing the human frailty in a woman who was wild and independent and strong. Martha gripped the arms circling her, and they sat together like that for some time, finding strength in each other’s presence.
Martha sighed, the weariness of the sound tearing at Valerie’s heart.
“You never told me when you plan to head back to Colorado.” Martha’s voice was strong, but she’d stiffened with the words, and Valerie let her arms return to her side, sitting back, but not leaving the couch. Martha’s gaze met her own. Sadness pooled there.
“I...” Valerie hadn’t wanted to share this until after Christmas. The evening she’d pulled in the tree, she’d updated her information on a business social media page. “I got an invite for an interview a couple days ago from an amazing company in Los Angeles.” She had no desire to live in that overcrowded city, and she’d stared at the invite for an interview for far longer than a person needing a job should have. “So that will be soon, and then I’ll have a better date in mind for leaving. If that’s not a hardship on you, of course.” She bit her lip, hating to take advantage of Martha’s hospitality, but having nowhere else to go.
Martha tilted her head. “You don’t want to go back to your old job?”
Valerie could have slapped herself for the slipup. She didn’t want to hide anymore, but feared the judgment she’d get. Staring down at her hands, she found the words thick in the back of her throat and had to force herself to get each one out. “I got fired from my last job because I told my boss that people weren’t numbers, that having our clothing made in countries where they don’t have good regulations, and the pay was ridiculously low wasn’t the right way to do things. He said he disagreed, and that business was a money game, and I should go work for a nonprofit if I felt that way.” Valerie rolled her eyes to the ceiling and shook her head at the unpleasant memory of the heated exchange. “I told him that I’d heard some CEOs are psychopaths, and he’d just confirmed that. That’s when I was fired.”
Martha was silent, and Valerie felt her face heat, as if the judgment for her stupidity was coming down like a hammer.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” her aunt finally asked.
Still not meeting her gaze, Valerie said, “I’m so ashamed for being such a big-mouthed idiot that I lost my job.” Her shoulders collapsed forward as she felt the weight of all her recent screwups. “I didn’t want you to know what a mess I’d made of my life lately.”
Silence filled the air, and Valerie felt like she wanted to shrink into herself. She wanted to go back to working beside Martha or Damon or brushing Peony. Anything that would take her mind off leaving, off working for another corporation that was making millions, or even billions, and not caring that the people who actually did the work were helplessly underpaid and mistreated.
“What you did...” A smile bloomed on Martha’s face. “It was brave and wonderful and right. Sometimes people get punished for doing what’s right. But really, is it a punishment? You got to leave an organization you didn’t want to be in. Maybe not the way you wanted, but now, you have the opportunity to choose where you want to be and what work you want to be doing.”
Valerie’s sigh was internal. She didn’t feel she had as much choice as Martha implied. She had to get a job and quickly. Practically speaking, what choice was there? She couldn’t—wouldn’t—live off Martha’s kindness much longer than Christmas, and her meager funds were...well, meager. Besides that, there were no jobs around this little town. She’d checked.
“Come. Let’s take a walk.” Martha got up and headed for the door. Obviously, this wasn’t up for discussion. Valerie pushed herself up and followed. Only boots and coats were pulled on, and then they stepped outside. Without her usual snow pants, the chilly breeze bit through her pants and she shivered. The sun wasn’t as bright as noonday, but at this angle, it created a halo over the snow and around the trees and buildings. It was magical, and yet, it somehow left Valerie feeling sadder than ever, lonely, as she thought about moving back down to the lower forty-eight.
They walked together, slowly, along a path around the buildings. Martha gazed around and didn’t say anything.
Unable to take the silence any longer, Valerie prodded, “Was there something you wanted to say to me?”
“Hmm? No, I just have always found that taking a walk in the crisp winter air helps one to think. If you’re ready, let’s head back, and I’ll warm us up some cider.”
Valerie chuckled and took Martha’s arm. “Let’s head back, and I’ll make us the cider while you put your feet up and cuddle Gus. The first thing he did every morning while you were gone was run around the place, looking for you.”
“He always runs around the place in the morning,” Martha pointed out.
“Yes, but I could sense he was looking for you.”
Martha gave her a suspicious squint but didn’t argue.
“Let’s load up the animals we’re taking to the Nativity and walk them around the church parking lot, where they’ll be for a couple of hours,” Martha suggested. Leave it to her to get right back on the bull.
“Or,” Valerie pushed the door open for them and stepped back so Martha could go in first, “you could rest while I continue to introduce more stimuli to them here.”
Martha snorted. “Girl, if you think you’re keeping me from being of help around my own farm, you’re crazy.”
“It seems to run in the family. Remember, the doctor said no strenuous activity for several days,” Valerie said firmly. Martha may have a great deal of wisdom, but Valerie wasn’t about to let her put herself in a bad position because of her pigheadedness.
“You’re stubborn.”
“Says the woman wanting to give me a heart attack by overworking herself when she should be resting, per the doctors’ orders.”
Martha’s lips twitched as she sat on the couch. Valerie headed to the kitchen to get the cider. The sight of the big red bows on the cabinet doors never ceased to make her smile, and she hummed as she got them their drinks.
“Valerie?”
“Yes?” She turned to look into the living room, mug in hand.
“I love you, child.”