Noelle was about two seconds from bursting out of her skin from excitement. Her hands were sweaty on the reins, her face stuck in a smile for the past hour since she’d gotten word from Sister Beatrice that Carol was ready to come home. Not only did she hop with excitement with every bounce of the wagon on the bumpy winter road, but she also almost urged the horses to go faster, despite the ice that lay thick on the path.
Her heart beat in time with the hooves of the horses’ footsteps, her breaths leaving white puffs in the air every time she laughed to herself. She was sure she looked a little nutty to passersby, but she couldn’t care less. Noelle was bringing her baby girl home, it would take a volcanic eruption to ruin this day for her.
Especially now that everyone had started to hang their Christmas decorations, green and red and white and gold everywhere. The snow added to the festive nature, gold decorative balls shining beautifully in the stark light reflecting from the white sheet of snow on the ground and on the roofs of houses.
Despite the raging winter around her, she felt a warmth wrap around her, her heart full of sunshine. Something she’d last felt when her mother had embraced her when she was little and scared. She had waited years to have a child, months for Henry to finally agree even when she knew it was a long shot; had lied to bring Carol home—and here she was, finally on her bumpy way to bring her child home.
She wondered what Carol’s thoughts on this were, what she made of this situation, and if she was excited about moving in as she had been since that last visit. Did she want this as much as Noelle did? Would she adjust positively to this change?
Suddenly, Noelle felt her smile fade as the reality of what was about to happen set in. How would she look after this child now that she was officially coming home? She hadn’t even prepared dinner or lunch, had just set out the door in a rush once she got the letter that the adoption had been approved. Not to mention the whole problem of Nicholas “Henry” Birch. Would he need to be present? As the husband, and now father? She hadn’t even thought of that.
Butterflies quickly turned to knots in her stomach, making her breakfast push up into her throat. There was so much she hadn’t considered, so much she still needed to do to make the home livable for a child. She hadn’t even gotten the chance to buy Carol new sheets, her very own sheets for her very own home. Not to mention that she completely forgot about clothes for her, and possibly even some brushes and mirrors. Did Carol like such things? She looked like she did, judging by the nature of their conversations. Noelle felt ill-prepared, for the first time in her life.
However, Pastor Sam’s words came back to her, telling her to pray and trust. So she did, her nerves flowing away on a current of faith, soothing her troubled mind with its calming water. Beatrice would not have approved the adoption had she thought Noelle unfit for the role, nor would she have approved if the house was less than child-friendly.
Somehow, Beatrice believed in Noelle, so she could too. She would be the best mother she could, odds be damned, and she would make a life for Carol—the beautiful life she deserved.
So Noelle went, pulling into the rocky road of the orphanage just as the first bits of snowfall started. If they were lucky, they would make it home semi-cold and not freezing as the snow threatened. She could no longer contain her smile of excitement as she spotted Beatrice and Carol, suitcase in hand, through the tinted windows of the little orphanage foyer. Her boots crunched through the snow as she rushed, hurriedly tying the horses against a nearby tree. The wagon was no use attached to fleeing horses, and she was not going to walk home in a storm with a child.
Her dress dragged through the snow, leaving the whole hem wet and soggy and covered with bits of mud peeking through the carpet of white. Her boots protected her toes from frostbite, but her ankles were not so lucky—but Noelle would be lying if she said she felt anything but anticipation.
The cold was a distant sting over the roar of overwhelming, child-like joy. The white front door neared, her hands shaking as she reached for the biting-cold round doorknob, swinging the door open and stepping into the warm foyer, and into a new future.
Carol was smiling as broadly as she was, dropping her suitcase and rushing forward to encircle Noelle in a crushing hug. She almost knocked the wind out of her, but all was forgotten as she crouched to embrace the girl fully. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, Carol’s own tears wetting the space between her neck and shoulder as they sobbed, happiness spilling over and barely able to be contained.
Beatrice stood still as they had their moment, picking the girl’s suitcase up from the ground and handing it to her with a soft smile when they finally broke apart. However soft the woman may be with children, she turned as hard with adults—it was evident in the hardened look she gave Noelle, no trace of the tender woman that had glanced at Carol just a moment before. That look seemed to be a warning and a congratulations all in one, as if saying “Congratulations mama, but we’ll take her back if you ruin her. Be warned.”
Once at home, Carol’s eyes grew the size of saucers once she took in the sprawling ranch house, and grew even wider (which Noelle didn’t think was possible) once she showed her the guest bedroom that would now become her bedroom.
“We’ll go to town tomorrow morning and buy some new sheets and clothes for you.” Noelle said nervously, but Carol was too busy looking around the room to bother about the sheets on the bed. It had the same wooden floors as the main bedroom did, with cream walls and wooden shutters to cover the window. Along the wall opposite the windows stood her wooden armoire, a coat rack, dresser, and a pretty engraved vanity. Sadly, it had no alcove for a washroom, but the second washroom in the hall opposite the main bedroom would be hers, since Noelle had her own washroom.
As soon as they were done with the house tour, and a tour of the barn, then the ranch itself on horseback, they settled into the second living room, snuggled beneath blankets and hot cocoa in hand.
“What do you think? Is it up to your standards?” Noelle teased, winking at the 6-year-old.
She nodded, curls bouncing. “I like the chickens the most.”
Noelle laughed in surprise. “They’re…uh…they’re definitely something.”
The girl nodded, twirling the hair of the doll in her lap. Noelle looked on, leaving the girl to adjust as she saw fit. But then, to her surprise, Carol started talking of her own accord.
“We used to have chickens at the orphanage, but then some of the naughty kids started hurting them so Sister Beatrice had Mr. Banks take them away,” she said. “It made me sad, because one of them was my friend.”
“I’m sorry, what did he look like?” Noelle asked, scooting closer in interest.
“It was a she,” the girl corrected her, not unkindly.
“Oh, my apologies,” she said, “what did she look like?”
“She had black and white feathers with a big claw on the back of her legs. It was scary, but she never hurt me.”
Noelle nodded as the girl told her stories upon stories. Carol talked and talked for hours, telling Noelle everything she wanted to know and more, sometimes crying as she went through her memories. Noelle was there for it all, laughing with her, and then consoling when needed. When she became quiet, Noelle got a great Christmas idea that would make the girl feel right at home.
“Do you want to make some cookies?” Noelle asked, widening her eyes in excitement. She wanted to give the girl good memories; joy to wipe the stain of sadness from her heart. The girl gaped, nodding eagerly. They were bonding over another cup of warm cocoa when a knock sounded at the door, prompting both of them to spin towards it and frown at each other.
Noelle stood, wrapping the blanket tightly around Carol as she did, and went to see whoever braved the cold to visit them. Suddenly, what she’d said earlier about a volcanic eruption ruining her day took form as Nicholas Birch. Her smile vanished almost immediately, not even returning at the sight of the candy he held out. She cocked an eyebrow, staring him down in distaste.
He was handsome though, cocking a sheepish grin that made those whiskey brown eyes lighten with humor. He was still dressed in his work clothes, which made her wonder if he’d rushed over after work immediately—and why he would do that.
“I deserve that look, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being so brash, and for being harsh on you and ruining the day for you.” He began sincerely, lifting the bag as he continued. “I brought candy for good fortune.”
Noelle opened her mouth to respond, but was bumped to the side by a curious little head. Carol squealed as she beheld what Nicholas held outstretched, grabbing the bag from him. Noelle almost scolded her, but quickly remembered that these things would take time—she would need time to adjust and realize she would have everything in abundance for the rest of her life.
“Why don’t you introduce yourself, Carol? This is Mr. Birch.” She said gently. But Nicholas shook his head,
“You can call me Nicholas.”
The girl waved shyly before dashing off again, Noelle casting him an exasperated and apologetic look. “She’s still learning, but thank you for the sweets.”
She smiled, wordlessly letting the door open fully, stepping aside to let him in. Nicholas’ smile told her everything she needed to know, saw the gratitude, relief, and wonder at Carol in that crooked grin. She whispered, “We’re making some cookies, care to join?”