Homespun Christmas (13 page)

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll be there.”

He took her hand. “Then let’s go. It’s not too far to walk.”

“Let me put Bear away,” she said, standing up.

“No. He was Dad’s friend. Let him come.”

Bear followed as they headed out through the back gate into the piñon juniper woodlands that lay a quarter of a mile from the house. They’d hiked up and down these hills in their youth, but it was clear that one place in particular had been important to Adam Nez, a place he’d shown only to his son.

After about ten minutes, they encountered the pebble-strewn base of an intermittent stream. The water flowed only after heavy summer rains, a rarity these past few years.

“Sometimes we’d wade around and watch the little shrimp that flourished in the pools before they dried up again,” Myka recalled. “I remember you saying that they hid inside their shells during the dry seasons but would come back again next year, or the year after.”

“And they did, right? I learned about them from my father. They’re some kind of brine shrimp that love bracken water,” Joshua replied.

“Are we going to the top, where the water sometimes flows over the ledge?”

He nodded and continued climbing up the dry wash. As they progressed along the gentle slope, the path narrowed, and before long they were in a gully with sloping sandstone walls. Ahead was a low rock cliff, layered in shades of tan, gray, yellow and reddish orange. Sagebrush, thin grasses and a few hearty junipers grew along spots in the ledge where eroded sand and soil had found refuge.

Joshua stopped, then pointed toward a shiny, almost varnished layer of sandstone along the lowest section of the water channel. “We’ll have to circle around a little to get to the top. It’s just too steep here.”

Several minutes later they were standing on the bowl-shaped bed of sandstone above a cliff that descended about ten feet in a nearly vertical drop.

Against the rock face was a cairn of stones with one small turquoise bead near the top. “This was Dad’s special place. Cairns like this can be found all around the Navajo Nation. Most of the time they mark someone’s passage or journey, but to Dad, this one signified peace...and memories. He’d come here and make an offering to Earth Woman whenever he was troubled.”

Joshua took the pouch from his pocket. “I’m going to sing a
Hozonji
he taught me. It’s a good luck song that brings protection and can aid a person facing a challenge. This song has been passed down through my family, and it’s seldom shared with an outsider.”

“Whatever happens here stays here,” she said, meeting his gaze.

“By scattering the pollen in this particular spot, where rainwater collects, I’m asking Earth Woman for the blessing of rain. Pollen, like rain, is life.”

As his voice rose in song, a range of emotions flowed through his chant. She didn’t speak Navajo, but understanding the meaning of each word seemed less important than listening with her heart. What she heard was the cry of a warrior mourning his father and moving on to face new battles. It was beautiful and powerful, each note filled with the strength that came from centuries of tradition.

As he emptied the pouch, she saw the breeze catch the motes of pollen, swirl them in its grasp, then let go, allowing them to drift gently back to the earth.

Some of the golden grains fell over the cairn, a few adorning the turquoise bead and glistening with the light of the afternoon sun.

When the song ended, there was only stillness around them. Bear was lying down, his muzzle on his front paws and his eyes closed, asleep. Even the birds were silent. Joshua placed the empty leather pouch by the cairn.

She wasn’t aware that she’d been holding her breath until he turned around. His eyes shone bright and there was new strength in him.

She understood his pain, remembering her own. Yet another stronger emotion pushed aside the remnants of sorrow. In the wake of one ending, life whispered to them about uncharted beginnings, urging them to follow the new path unfolding before them.

He took her hand and pulled her to him. He didn’t kiss her, he simply held her. She rested her head against him, enjoying the hardness of his chest and knowing that he needed her softness, too.

For that moment in time, nothing else mattered. They were two people who’d known pain and needed the comfort of an embrace, two souls who yearned for more in their solitary lives.

He brushed a kiss on her forehead. “Thank you for being here with me.”

“You said before that you’d always have my back. I’ll always be there for you, too. That’s what friends are for.”

He met her gaze and held it. Awareness, sweet yet dangerous, flickered to life between them. She wanted to stay in his arms, but found the will to step away.

“Let’s go back,” he said as if reading her thoughts.

* * *

T
HIRTY
MINUTES
LATER
, she and Bear were on their way to Medeiros Market, Bear in the backseat and her insulated cooler behind him in the rear storage area.

The parking lot was almost full when she arrived. It had been a long time since she’d seen so many people there.

As she walked inside, Myka heard her name being called. Grandma waved at her from the back of the store. As Myka came over she noticed Grandma was setting up the life-size cutout of a Thanksgiving turkey in a special display.

“Business is brisk for a weekday,” Myka said.

“The town’s renovation efforts have added several dozen construction jobs, and we’ve got a lot of new faces.” She looked around at the crowded store with a smile. “I’ve made something special for you, Myka. It’s a thank-you. Come to the back.”

“What for?” Myka asked.

“Look around you, girl. Business is way up. We’ve sold more steak in the past month than in the previous three. Folks have some extra money in their pockets again and they’re looking ahead to a brighter future.” Grandma reached behind a counter and brought out a small box. “Homemade cake doughnuts—the ones you like.”

“Thank you, Grandma! But you didn’t have to do this. Share one with me.”

Grandma smiled. “If you insist.”

Myka held out the box, and they each took one. “These are incredible, Grandma.”

“I’ll make some for Joshua, too. You two are a terrific team.”

“He’s really helped me get HMI off the ground.”

“My advice is hold on to him,” she said.

“The company sure does need him,” Myka agreed.

“And so do you,” Grandma said quietly. “Life and love are calling to you again.”

Myka shook her head. “What I feel when I’m with Joshua isn’t love, Grandma,” she said. “I know love. I lived it every day with Tanner. With Joshua, it’s more about excitement and attraction, but love—the real kind—doesn’t need fireworks. It’s gentler and much quieter.”

“There are as many ways to define love as there are people,” Grandma said.

“Maybe, but the fact is that Joshua and I are a bad mix. His dreams for the future are way different from mine.”

Grandma stood, ready to go back to work. “That’s logic talking, but you know what? The heart almost never listens to common sense.”

As Grandma walked back out into the market, Myka stuck another doughnut in her mouth. They were light as a feather and practically melted on her tongue. With a contented sigh, she finished her shopping, then went back to the car.

With the windows halfway down, she was able to reach in and pat Bear on the head. He was still happily chewing on his bone. She smiled and the dog wagged his tail, which thumped loudly against the back of the seat. “You’re great company, you big moose,” she said as she placed her groceries in the cooler. Not that it was needed. The weather was in the low fifties, and she hadn’t bought anything frozen, but it would keep the milk and glass containers from tipping over or rolling around.

As she drove down Main Street, Myka noticed that the bakery next to the Blue Spruce was sporting its new sign. Wanting to know more about the M&S Bakery and Coffee Shop, she decided to pay Betty a visit. If anyone knew the details, it would be her.

This time Bear came with her. Evie would be happy to see her pal.

As they walked through the front doors, Myka noticed that the arched doorway Betty had wanted was now a reality. Bricks lined the interior of the arch, making it look like a passageway in some old fortress, and the black, wrought-iron chandeliers with their candle-shaped lights made it all come together.

Evie came out from behind the counter. Seeing Bear, she smiled and ran over to give him a hug. “Can I take him outside to play? I have a ball I can throw.”

“Sure, if your mom says it’s okay, but not out front,” Myka said, looking over at Betty. “Bear’s dying for some exercise. How about it?”

“Okay, Evie, you can play with Bear, but stay inside. You can roll the ball instead of throwing it. That way you won’t break any lights.”

As they ran down to the main hall, Myka said, “The weather’s beautiful, and the lawn’s perfect for play. What’s going on?”

Betty hesitated, then said in a low voice, “For the past few days, I’ve had a feeling that someone’s watching me. Most of the time, when I look outside, I see absolutely nothing, but I’m getting a little creeped out.”

“Wait—
most
of the time?” Myka asked, trying to stay calm.

“Sometimes I’ll catch a glimpse of a shape or shadow that disappears as soon as I try to focus on it. If it’s anything other than my imagination, I’m guessing it’s a drifter looking for a place to sleep.”

“You should trust your instincts, Betty. Have you told Will?” Myka asked quickly.

“No, I’m not sure it isn’t all in my head. I’ve been putting in some superlong hours and I’m really tired.”

“Yeah, I know how you feel,” she said, but before she could continue, they both heard a familiar voice. Myka turned and saw Sophie rush in, white paint all over her pink sweater.

“Have you told her yet?” Sophie asked Betty.

Betty laughed. “I haven’t had a chance! Why don’t you?”

Sophie smiled widely. “I’ve got super news. One morning I got to thinking how hard it is for us to get together like we used to. Talking over coffee and cupcakes kept us sane, even when things were really bad,” she said. “Now we’re not doing that because we’re all so busy working. It just didn’t seem right.”

“So you’ve decided to...what...sell cupcakes door to door?” Myka asked.

“No, silly! I’m opening my own bakery and joining forces with Mabel’s place. She still has the best coffee around, but the bakery that supplied her closed down months ago. At first she bought homemade goodies from Betty, but Betty’s been too busy with the inn to do much baking. That’s where I stepped in. Mabel and I are opening the M&S Bakery and Coffee Shop. We’ll serve Mabel’s coffee and all the extras, including New Mexican specialties like
biscochitos
and fry bread.”

“Are you sure you’ll have enough traffic?” Myka asked.

“Oh, yeah. Mabel’s business tapered off when customers couldn’t buy a pastry to go with their coffee, so together we’re going to bring her customers back.” She paused to take a breath. “But the main reason I wanted to open a bakery is because people need a place where they can sit and talk.”

“I love it,” Myka said.

Evie suddenly raced past them, laughing, Bear trotting beside her. Myka watched them for a moment and smiled. “You’re so lucky to have her, Betty.”

“Yeah, I am,” Betty said softly. “My marriage to Tony was a train wreck, but when I look at Evie I know it was worth it.”

After promising them the bakery’s first batch of cupcakes, Sophie left to resume painting.

Myka lowered her voice so Evie wouldn’t hear. “Have you heard from Tony?”

“Yeah. He finally agreed to a divorce, but Will thinks Tony’s going to pull a fast one and try to get custody of Evie. That’s why he helped me dig up the arrest reports and restraining order. If I need them, I’ll have everything ready to present to a judge,” she said.

“Good. It never hurts to be prepared. What’s Tony doing these days?”

“Selling used cars in Albuquerque.”

Bear’s loud barking interrupted them. It wasn’t his normal playful bark, so Myka hurried to the sunroom to find Bear standing on his hind legs and looking out the window into the garden.

Myka stood beside Bear, following his line of sight, and saw movement by the juniper hedge inside the wall. She moved to the right for a better angle, but whatever had been there was gone.

“It was probably a squirrel going over the wall,” Myka said and smiled at Evie.

“Can Bear and I play some more?” Evie asked, looking at Myka then her mom.

“Sure, honey. Just stay inside,” Betty said.

As they both ran off, Myka glanced at Betty. “Someone was out there. Tell Will, okay? It won’t hurt to have him patrolling this area more often. With construction activity on the rise, there are more unfamiliar faces in Independence these days.”

“All right,” Betty said.

Myka glanced out the window again, but this time her gaze went to the train tracks on the raised roadbed that curved toward the plant.

“What’s on your mind?” Betty asked, coming up next to her. “The train?”

“Exactly. If we want to grow the town’s economy, we need to give tourists a reason to visit. Offering families that Old West experience could make Independence a real destination.”

“You’re right. We used to get quite a few visitors when the train was still running.”

“I’ll ask Joshua how he’s doing with the search for Brooks’s will. That’ll hopefully clear the title to the crucial piece of land,” she said, then added, “I might even offer to help.”

Myka returned home with Bear a short time later. As she walked inside the house, the silence was deafening.

“Come on, Bear. Let’s see what we can rustle up for dinner,” she said, trying to fill the quiet emptiness.

The dog padded along with her as she headed back to the car, emptied the cooler and brought the groceries inside. Passing by the small framed photo of Tanner and her at the harvest festival, she stopped—setting down the last bag—and studied it for a moment.

Tanner was gone, but so was the Myka who had stood beside him. After a beat, she placed the photo inside a drawer.